London's hotels have a fascinating history - and apart from the high Edwardian glory days of our most venerable hotels, perhaps no time is more intriguing than the Blitz.
As bombs rained down on London and the lights went out all over Europe, the dance bands played on as debutantes and glamorous airmen downed their cocktails and pink gins at Claridge's, The Savoy, and The Ritz.
It was a world of fakers and spies, emigrés and aristocrats, luxury and danger.
Hotels held a certain attraction and mystique to everyone.
Many aristocrats had given up their country houses to the war effort and their domestic staff were off fighting the war; hotels were the only places they could maintain their privileged lifestyle.
Emigrés from Nazi-occupied countries also needed living quarters - in the case of much of European royalty, Claridge's or The Ritz allowed them to maintain the style to which they were accustomed, as long as they could pay for it.
King Zog and Queen Geraldine of Albania were said to pay their bills in gold bullion they'd brought in their hatboxes.
At Claridge's, "Mr Brown" turned out to be King George of Greece, while Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands eschewed such disguise but had a fetching flannel nightdress.
Most oddly, the government actually gave up sovereignty over one suite at Claridges for a night to Yugoslavia, so that Prince Alexander could be born "on Yugoslav soil" (with a box of appropriate dirt under the bed for the more literal-minded).
Besides, the Dorchester with its steel-reinforced concrete and the Ritz with its steel girders, were seen as probably the strongest buildings in London, able to stand up to a direct hit in a way that the Georgian terraces of Bloomsbury or Mayfair weren't.
On the other hand, top-floor rooms were seen as vulnerable - the Charing Cross Hotel had to slash its prices to get them filled.
Acting "business as usual" was one way of showing that Hitler hadn't beaten the Brits yet.
But in the background of the glittering appearances, there was a whole world of spies, servants, journalists - even a whole gay subculture in the basement of the Ritz, as Matthew Sweet tells in his book "West End Front.
" Journalists packed into suites at The Savoy, while suspected Nazi double agent Stella Lonsdale was put up at the Waldorf and amazed her debriefers by talking dirty for hours - possibly a great strategy to confuse the buttoned-up British spymasters.
And while there were cocktails and canapés above stairs, "below stairs" things were much murkier; the Dorchester, for instance, had its own full time cockroach killer.
Perhaps the most poignant WWII association though, didn't happen until much later.
Nancy Wake was an incredible woman - an "It Girl" of her day, who later became a member of the Special Operations Executive, setting up escape routes for Allied soldiers and airmen to get out of occupied France.
Known as "the White Mouse," she later received the Legion d'Honneur and no fewer than three Croix de Guerre for her work.
Towards the end of her life, she decided she wanted some luxury and moved into the Stafford Hotel where her former seat in the American Bar is marked with a discreet plaque.
Bar staff say she drank six gin and tonics every afternoon - no wonder she managed to run rings around the Nazis!