I’m lying beneath the ground in central London. My face is being oiled and kneaded, my nostrils are inhaling the aroma of lavender and eucalyptus. 

The only hint that I’m in the UK’s capital is the rumbling of the Piccadilly Line, its thrum grazing the soundscape every 2.5 minutes. 

This is Akasha Spa at Hotel Cafe Royal, one of London’s most luxurious properties and founding member of The Set. It’s been voted the city’s best hotel spa, and after just a few minutes inside its walls, it’s easy to see why. 

Added to the 19th century building during its extensive 2008 renovation, Akasha has all the hardware you’d expect of a luxury hotel spa – a sauna, hammam, jacuzzi and 18-metre lap pool, as well as a treatment menu offering everything from Watsu therapy to herbal-infused massages. 

But it’s the commitment to the client’s overall experience – its italicisation of the beginning, middle and the end – that makes it exceptional. 

My pampering day begins at 9.50am in my Junior Suite, where I’ve spent the last 10 hours in deep, uninterrupted slumber. (Sleeping in Frette linen sheets, which cost anything from £320 to £1000, has that effect). 

Rested and robed, I pad down to Akasha Spa – buried in the vault of this seven-storey building – via a secluded elevator. 

The lift opens within a metre of reception, where the spa manager is waiting to greet guests from the moment of arrival. It’s a minor but important architectural feature, removing the need to fumble for directions or worse, shuffle through the lobby half-naked. 

Once I’ve been checked in, I’m offered a choice between lemon and lime water and mint and cucumber water. As I sip my ice-cold beverage, I complete the all-important intake form. The detail is granular, with questions on everything from my medical history to my pressure preferences. 

I’ve booked a Sundari facial, having always preferred skincare treatments to massages. I’d read online that the 60-minute-long procedure “combines Ayurvedic principles with natural, plant-based ingredients to deeply nourish, balance, and rejuvenate the skin, promoting a healthy, radiant complexion.” 

But really, I’d just hoped it would heal my pores from months’ worth of clogged makeup and harsh UV rays.

The treatment 

For first-time visitors, Akasha Spa’s layout can feel like a labyrinth. The space is spread across three floors, with the lowest tier dedicated to wet facilities and six treatment rooms. Fortunately, there is no need to wander aimlessly – multiple staff are always on-duty to assist. 

The spa manager escorts me to the treatment room, where my therapist introduces herself and asks about my current skincare routine. 

I sheepishly tell her I only use a moisturiser by Aveeno, to which she replies: “My teenage daughter loves that brand!” The inferiority subsides. 

The Sundari facial comes in a variety of forms; the Sundari Facial Exfoliates, the Neem Intensive Healing Facial, and the Age-Defying Firming Facial. After explaining that I suffer from dry skin, it’s decided that the first option – which promises a ‘healthy radiant glow’ – would be most suitable.

Once I’ve derobed and settled onto the massage bed, the treatment begins. My therapist starts by cleansing and exfoliating my face, before steaming my pores and applying a hydrating mask. 

The procedure feels like a choreographed slow dance, with each step fluently and gently morphing into the next. There is no shortage of sensual delights; from hot towels to refreshing mists, my face feels like it’s in dermatological heaven. The divine treatment doesn’t stop there; the therapist also massages my neck, shoulders and arms, sending my entire upper body into a dream-like state. 

I feel blissfully sleepy as the bed raises up an hour later, like I’ve taken a double dosage of sheep counting and high-strength melatonin. My therapist whispers: “Your facial has now finished”, knowing well any volume over 40 decibels might break my eardrums. 

Once I’ve regained consciousness, I’m escorted to Akasha’s relaxation room, a dimly-lit cave with cushy recliners, electric candles and fresh flowers. I lounge here for the next half hour, letting the nutrients of my facial absorb as I listen to the chimes of ambient music. 

Resisting the urge to doze off, I head to the pool for a dip in its chlorine-free waters, before retreating onto a lounger in one of the private alcoves. I order a cold pressed juice, dig my toes further into my slippers and take out my crossword book. It’s been a tough day.