Mount Street escorts in W1K, for the terracotta village between The Connaught and the Gardens

Most of the street was rebuilt by the Grosvenor estate at the end of the nineteenth century, in warm pink terracotta and brick, with shops at pavement level and generous flats above. The effect is part Flemish town hall, part wedding cake, and it glows in the low evening sun. The boutiques downstairs change with the seasons; the facades have hardly changed in well over a century.

Scott's has served oysters and grilled fish on Mount Street since the late 1960s, with a terrace that fills the moment the weather allows. The Connaught commands the junction with Carlos Place, and outside its door Tadao Ando's shallow pool releases a soft cloud of mist every so often, one of the loveliest small surprises in the city. Further along, The Audley, an old corner pub on South Audley Street, hides a ceiling painted by a contemporary artist, and between them runs a string of galleries and shoe shops that reward a slow walk.

Slip through the gate off Mount Street and you are in Mount Street Gardens: tall trees, memorial benches and a quiet that feels impossible two minutes from Park Lane. The Jesuit Church of the Immaculate Conception on Farm Street backs onto it, with a high altar designed by Pugin, and its doors are open to anyone who wants ten calm minutes before dinner.

Mount Street suits the way our guests like to spend an evening: close, polished and on foot. A drink at the Connaught Bar, dinner a minute's walk away, a nightcap back where you started, all without a single taxi. For guests at The Connaught it is quite literally the doorstep; for residents of the mansion flats above the shops, it is simply the high street.

Three kinds of guest fall for the street. Hotel guests on a short stay, who want one excellent evening rather than a busy one. Residents in town for part of the year, who would rather host supper at home. And weekend visitors who have heard about the street and want someone to walk it with them. All three get the same thing: a companion who knows which bench catches the last of the light and which table at Scott's has the best view of the room.

No hotel sits closer to the street than The Connaught, W1K 2AL, on the corner of Carlos Place, with its bar, two much admired dining rooms and a hush that seems to be part of the service. A minute north up Carlos Place, The Biltmore Mayfair, W1K 2HP, occupies the whole southern edge of Grosvenor Square, all bright lobby and garden views.

At the Park Lane end of the street, Grosvenor House, W1K 7TN, and The Dorchester, W1K 1QA, are both a few minutes on foot, the first with its vast ballroom, the second with its gilded Promenade and the park across the road. Five minutes south, on Charles Street, The Chesterfield Mayfair, W1J 5EB, is the cosy one of the group: a townhouse hotel with the feel of a private house and a bar made for long conversations.

Printed here for orientation only: we have no ties to any of these hotels. If you are meeting downstairs, she asks for you by name at the bar; if Bella has your room, she comes straight up. The flats above the shops work the same way, with the building, the floor and the buzzer name checked once.

Mount Street sits neatly between three stations. Walk about 7 minutes north east and you reach Bond Street, served by the Elizabeth line as well as the Central and Jubilee. Walk the same 7 minutes south east, through Berkeley Square, and Green Park offers the Victoria, Jubilee and Piccadilly lines. The Piccadilly line also stops at Hyde Park Corner, roughly 9 minutes south west past The Dorchester.

She comes by car; in Zone 1 the journey never costs extra. The women who live in Mayfair are a short drive away, so once Bella confirms, the usual wait is well under an hour, and an advance booking keeps to the minute you named. Bella checks the room once, against the name it is registered to, and you give your companion her fee yourself as she walks in.

Violetta tells this one best. Early summer, a guest at The Connaught who had asked Bella for someone tall, funny and happy to walk. She was by the Ando pool at five past seven, 178 cm of sleek black hair and deadpan timing, just as the mist rolled over the stone, and their first ten minutes were spent in the Gardens, where she read the plaque on their bench aloud in a flawless newsreader voice.

By a quarter to eight they had a table on the terrace at Scott's and a plate of oysters between them. After that came the whole street, window to window, and a pleasant argument about shoes that she insists she won. At nine the martini trolley was wheeled over in the Connaught Bar, and at ten a car took her home. Three hours in all, £1,050, and in her words, not a minute wasted.

Three of them live in Mayfair itself. Samanta, the cover star of our Mount Street issue, knows the grill rooms of South Audley Street and the recital halls to the north. Angelika will steer you to a gallery before dinner, and Luna to a bottle you have never tried.

From Marylebone, a short drive north, come Rosa, curly haired and endlessly easygoing, and Liana, who treats Mount Street Gardens as her private reading room. From Belgravia and Knightsbridge, just past Hyde Park Corner, come Patricia with her watercolours and noir novels, Violetta with her perfect timing, and Sonya, graceful and fond of an early dinner. Margo and Lea are regular visitors too, the first for the galleries on Davies Street, the second for the antique dealers' windows.

The street opens onto the rest of Mayfair in every direction. North up Carlos Place lies Grosvenor Square, west is the Park Lane hotel row, and east, past Berkeley Square, the windows of Bond Street begin. For the wider picture, from Shepherd Market to Brook Street, open our Mayfair page.