Brisbane’s Hotel Indigo holds court at North Quay
Matters for mention at this North Quay establishment include dramatic murals and historic criminal cases.
I roll into Brisbane’s Hotel Indigo seeing red. It’s been a frustrating day trying to travel here from Sydney. I’m bumped from an 11am flight to another and another before finally taking off at 7.30pm. There go my afternoon bar-hopping plans.
My mood needs a reset, which happens as soon as I clap eyes upon the 6m-high red doors framing elevators that will whoosh me up to hotel reception. They signal I’m about to enter some kind of fantasia that’s a long way from this property’s previous incarnation as a bog-standard Ibis hotel.
When the elevator doors slide open upstairs, that promise is more than fulfilled. There’s an intriguing “snail in a bottle” mural, a reception desk resembling a legal filing cabinet and cryptic neon numbers behind the receptionist’s head. When I inquire about the numbers, I’m told they reference pivotal historic court cases – a nod to the hotel’s location neighbouring Brisbane’s North Quay legal precinct.
A legal thread also connects that snail mural by Sunshine Coast artist Fuzeillear – turns out it was inspired by the landmark 1932 case of a Scottish woman who fell ill after drinking a bottle of ginger beer containing a decomposing snail. What does that have to do with faraway Brisbane? Her case eventually went to the House of Lords where the judgment, which laid the foundation for the modern law of negligence, leading to consumer protection laws, was delivered by Lord Atkin, who was born on Tank St, a mere block from the hotel.
It’s the kind of deep storytelling that lifts the spirits – as does an excellent feast. The 212-room hotel’s Izakaya Publico is almost ready to close its kitchen for the night so staff whisk my bag upstairs and I take the express route to dinner. The dining room is another space straight from the pages of a fairytale, with two dramatic murals dominating the walls. I drink them in as a parade of dishes arrives: kingfish sashimi with jalapeño salsa and yuzu soy, wagyu skewers, rice and miso, tempura vegetables and robata-grilled Mooloolaba prawns with kombu butter.
After all that deliciousness, I practically waddle to my 12th-floor room – a one-bedroom king suite with city views. As the elevator doors open, once again I’m met with a surprise: butterflies in every shade of blue adorn the cream corridors and a trail of blue dots meanders over the carpeted hall. The dots are echoed in two starbursts painted over my bedhead (when I look closely, some are tiny butterflies), cleverly highlighted by backwards-facing, industrial-style brass light fittings.
My suite’s walls are a deep plum (or ume, to channel the restaurant’s lingo). There’s an unusual bathroom arrangement with a wet room (shower and tub) and separate toilet. A hand basin and mirror are positioned at the entrance to both, in full view of the bed – no private flossing here. My favourite feature is the Narnia-like wardrobe separating living and sleeping quarters. Leaving the wardrobe doors open provides more of a screen if one guest wants to retire early while the other stays up to watch television (TV screens are on both sides of the wardrobe/room divider). Smaller surprises include the wireless phone charger on a bedside table and finding a safe within that table’s drawer.
I’m too tired for the late-night bar crawl I’d planned that would have included Alba in nearby Burnett Lane. This cosy eatery and wine bar, inspired by San Sebastian’s renowned pintxos venues, serves jamon, Spanish tinned fish and the like while the drinks list ranges from sherry, vermouth and amaro (an Italian herbal liqueur) to Spanish wine and Australian natural wines. Next time, Alba.
While in the lane, I could have also gone searching for guerrilla artist Mace Robertson’s little red door (the inspiration for Hotel Indigo’s imposing red entrance). Eagle-eyed pedestrians can go on a treasure hunt of sorts by searching for Robertson’s similar creations – and variations such as miniature shopfronts and a fire station – that have been installed around central Brisbane, South Brisbane’s Fish Lane and Fortitude Valley. They are part of the tiny-door movement, which can be traced to Atlanta, Georgia, where Karen Anderson Singer, now principal artist of Tiny Doors ATL, installed her first petite piece in 2014. They spark such joy that tiny doors can now be found across the world.
No, instead of all that fun, I crawl between the sheets but console myself with a hearty breakfast the next morning. I barely recognise last night’s seductively lit dining room in the bright light of day as I pile glazed pottery bowls and plates with scrambled eggs and mushrooms, fresh fruit drizzled with mango coulis, and smoked salmon and cheese. Somehow, I also find room for miniature doughnuts and choc-banana muffins.
It’s time to roll on to my next destination. As I check out, I ask why a copy of Brisbane author (and The Weekend Australian journalist) Trent Dalton’s Boy Swallows Universe is displayed so prominently at reception. The novel’s pivotal blue wren, it turns out, inspired Blends’ mural high on the hotel’s side wall. Another is perched downstairs over the elevator doors holding what appears to be a luminous red twig. I must admit the images and colour palette have soothed my soul. But as any amateur artist knows, when you the right amounts of red and blue you get indigo.
in the know
Hotel Indigo Brisbane City Centre is at 27-35 Turbot St, Brisbane. It’s a busy street but close to the serene Roma St Parklands. Rooms start from $229 a night and king suites from $619 a night. There’s no in-house pool but guests can use the rooftop swimming pool at neighbouring sister property, voco Brisbane City Centre, accessed via a former taxi laneway transformed into hip Chelsea Lane.
Katrina Lobley was a guest of Hotel Indigo Brisbane City Centre and the Brisbane Economic Development Agency.
