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The London Pavilion has always dealt in the improbable. For decades this Grade II-listed pile on the corner of Piccadilly Circus housed Ripley's Believe It or Not, an odditorium of shrunken heads and two-headed calves. Its latest exhibit might be the strangest yet, as more than 1,000 people are sleeping in oak boxes, stacked five floors high above the most chaotic junction in the capital. All from £30 a night – a bargain.
The UK's biggest capsule hotel is a bet that what Londoners and tourists actually want from a central stay isn't a trouser press and a Nespresso machine, but a quiet place to lie down that doesn’t cost twice the price of the theatre tickets they came for. And mostly, it pays off. Just don’t expect anyone to carry your bags. Or, indeed, to hand you a towel – that’ll be an extra fiver.
What are the rooms like at Zedwell Capsule Hotel?
Well, first you have to find them. Check-in happens at a self-service kiosk (once I’d located the right entrance, across the road from where I’d initially marched in confidently) where syncing your key card to your capsule number is entirely your responsibility, a small act of hospitality DIY that sets the tone of the stay. Then it’s into the corridors, which are dim and labyrinthine. I walked the wrong way more than once, and mark my words, wandering somewhere this vast and hushed on your own has a faintly Backrooms quality, as if I were the last person left in a horror film.
Dorms range from four capsules to a hundred, mixed by default, though I stayed on the female-only floor, which costs roughly a tenner extra a night. (NB: there’s no men-only version.) Zedwell says the premium partly covers perks like an in-pod towel and a women-only beauty room with hairdryers.
The capsule itself (Zedwell insists on ‘Cocoon’) is roomier than the word suggests. It’s a wood-lined pod with a Hypnos mattress, Egyptian cotton bedding and a roll-down shutter, and you can sit up and stretch out without feeling like you’re in a filing cabinet. By your pillow sits a plug socket, a USB port, a light switch and, crucially, the air-con control. The wi-fi is good too. What there isn’t, however, is storage. A small bag can fit in beside your bed, but anything bigger means the paid luggage lockers, which feels a bit rich.
So, the only question that actually matters: did I sleep? Well, I checked in mid-heatwave, and an enclosed wooden box did not initially feel like the place to be, until I found that switch by my head and cool air started moving. Then, lights off, the darkness is absolute. There are no windows anywhere in this building, and the pitch black that feels faintly eerie at midnight becomes a superpower by morning, with no daylight to drag you awake before you’re ready. The pods aren’t soundproof (I heard neighbours clambering into their bunks around midnight) but a considerate hush prevails after that – after all, this is not a room for hanging about in. It’s a machine for sleeping.
Two things to know before you pack. You can lock the door from the inside, but there’s no lock on the outside of your shutter unless you bring a padlock. Forget and it’s £8 from reception, which is daylight robbery if you ask me. And depending on your rate, a towel isn’t included either, that’s another £5. Neither charge is hidden exactly, but check your booking before you arrive smug and towel-less.
What are the facilities like at Zedwell Capsule Hotel?
The capsules open straight onto the communal bathrooms which is efficient, if a little strange. There are rows of gleaming white sinks where everyone brushes their teeth in their pyjamas like a very well-designed boarding school. The shower cubicles are very clean and every time I entered the bathroom there was a woman mopping, hoovering, all of the above. They have their own changing areas and lockable doors, and Zedwell body wash is provided. There are two lounges, a quiet ground-floor one for the laptop crowd and an underground lobby with the Zedwell Bar, plus a café, co-working desks and a gym in the basement of the sister hotel around the corner. No under-18s allowed, which keeps the dorms mercifully free of school trips.
What’s the area like around Zedwell Capsule Hotel?
It’s Piccadilly Circus, baby. The lights, the crowds, the man busking playing Wonderwall. But tucked away in your windowless pod, you can’t hear any of it. The whole building is engineered to make you forget where you are, even with Theatreland, Leicester Square, Regent Street and the National Gallery on your doorstep.
Time Out tip
Pack a towel and a padlock and you’ve just saved yourself £13, enough for a pint and a bao once you surface back into Soho.
DETAILS
Address: The Pavilion, Great Windmill St, London W1J 0DA
Price: Capsules from £30 per night
Transport: Piccadilly Circus tube station is nextdoor