June 2, 2026 |
Templeton Garden, its lemon-coloured bricking scarcely interrupting a road of townhouses on a street in Earl’s Court, feels like a countryside escape amongst the pulse of London’s sprawling metropolis. Walk through its doors, painted a shade of dusty moss, and you’re greeted with interiors all brushed in earthy hues. Airy beige, burnt orange and sage green punctuate the open plan space that acts as the heart of the hotel. Here, the reception, bar, restaurant and terrace all flow into each other, creating an environment antidotal to some of the stuffier, affected hotels that can pop up around its Kensington postcode. The ease with which the Templeton Garden team wants guests to pop into the bar, then out onto the terrace, then into the restaurant for a hearty meal is built into its architecture. Elevated further by a friendly staff clothed in loose-fitting, cotton uniforms, Templeton Garden, under the Miiro Hotels umbrella, is a leafy, casual spot with its roots deeply embedded in elevated hospitality.
We were lucky enough to spend the night at Templeton Garden this weekend. A romantic getaway for my partner and I, we shuffled into the lobby of the Victorian build at 4pm and were immediately greeted by two chatty receptionists. After a quick back and forth about delays caused by the Arsenal parade (one was a big fan and was gleeful about the team’s recent Premier League win), we headed to our room to drop our stuff. The interiors of the room reflected that of the rest of the hotel – warm, natural, like it could be transplanted into a remote boutique somewhere in the English countryside and make complete sense. Greeted by a plate of mini carrot cakes and pistachio pastries (never a bad thing), we explored the details of what would be our bedroom for that evening. A book titled Woodland Wisdom: A Miscellany of Forest Facts, Fiction and Folklore sat on the centre of a small, walnut table, whilst the art hung on the walls was simple yet effective. Next to our bed, a cluster of surrealist brushstrokes of red, brown and green, and above a wooden desk, a small autumnal leaf encircled by pencilled notes framed against a large, cream backdrop. The bathroom was equally as charming. A scarlett tiled shower and Le Labo products galore, each detail was considered and in harmony with the rest of the space.
After two fresh cocktails on the terrace – I got a peppermint and tequila mix named Crystal Mint Grasshopper, whilst my partner sipped on a roasted butternut squash-based tipple called a Squash Sour – we had a meander around the lush garden. Here is where Templeton Garden’s best kept secret resides – three fluffy rabbits. Much to our excitement, you were allowed to pet them and we spent a solid portion of our evening doing just that. The evening rolled around and we headed to a corner of the garden shrouded by foliage for another one of the delights nestled into Templeton Garden’s lush grounds – its restaurant, Pippin’s, led by executive head chef Liam Fauchard-Newman.
A traditional British menu updated for the summer season, Pippin’s outside set up, which we opted for due to the warm weather, has the same laid back air of its mothership. Seated on a corner coach, we opted for a roomy Merlot to drink and kicked off our feast with some green olives, whipped butter and lightly toasted sourdough. Following this was a tuna tartar, decorated with dainty dollops of avocado purée, Bramley apple and wasabi. Refreshing and tangy, it was an appropriate complement to the heavier dishes that we chose for our mains.
After much deliberation on whether to go for the roast menu or à la carte, we opted for the latter (a decision my partner later regretted, despite the deliciousness of our chosen dishes, the roast did look top tier). For me, a roasted half chicken, placed delicately on a bed of chicken fat potato mash and swimming in a moat of tarragon chicken sauce. For my partner, a wagyu sirloin steak with lashings of peppercorn sauce and a side of grilled asparagus and skinny, crispy fries. Gorging ourselves on the generous portions, we decided not to get dessert. However, for guests who aren’t able to resist, there’s a matcha Basque cheesecake, strawberry and rhubarb mille-feuille or dark chocolate and cherry delice to tickle your sweet tooth. A taste of quintessential British cooking transported from the countryside into the city, Pippin’s is homely, but far from twee.
Sufficiently stuffed, we headed back to our woodland-hued room and conked out until the morning. Checking out to head back into work, the bustling tube becoming the backdrop for reminiscence – the sweet sight of the rabbits drinking from their water can, the comfort of the soft-cushioned garden furniture, the rich depth of the sauces that coated our dinner. And as the train jostled along the Piccadilly Line, we were struck by the ease with which Templeton Garden allowed us to escape London’s busy buzz. A calm sanctuary, just a quick stroll away from the high street traffic, that provides moments of peace amongst the noise.
Photography courtesy of Templeton Garden.
