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When it opened in 1912, the intimate Stafford appealed to Americans on a European spree; it even named its yacht-clubby bar The American Bar. Today, renovated to business-class standards (its Mews outbuilding is a particular romantic zone, but all areas are quiet and have super-soft beds), this rambling hideaway down a cul-de-sac in St James’s, a short passageway from Green Park, is still popular with Americans, so it doesn’t . succumb to the arrogance rife in London’s top-tier hotels. Having a subterranean wine cellar that’s some 400 years old, which consequently empowers it to be the only hotel in London to retain its own Master Sommelier (only 249 people have ever attained that designation), goes a long way toward attracting a discerning, but not snobby, clientele.