Hotel design leaves guests in the dark
A well-designed guestroom with plenty of light and a pleasant layout is all I ask for. Apparently it’s too much.
A well-designed hotel guestroom with plenty of light and a pleasant layout? It doesn’t need to be flash or fancy, just comfy and secure. Not too much to ask for, surely?
Well, readers, I’ve been down the proverbial rabbit hole again, and it’s a grim and darkened place to land. Two hotels in one week and each as baffling. The first, in New Zealand, is a member of one of those trendy design chains that prioritise form over function and, in doing so, lose sight of what guests really want and value.
Black is the predominant colour in suites and rooms, and that includes all the switches and surfaces. The key cards are black, too. Several travelling companions in my group never do relocate said cards and have to make multiple dashes to the front desk for replacements. The only reason I retain mine is because I keep it in a handbag with a bright mulberry interior. (Black handbags with black linings represent another whole universe of pain and dislocation.)
In the US, things get even sillier. A black panel by the bed controls the lights. All its buttons are black. I kneel to try and navigate this contraption. In the scrawniest writing imaginable, I can almost determine the word “black” on a small central switch. The interior designer’s devilish little joke at guests’ expense, perhaps? Only one way to find out. With more than a little apprehension, I press it. Voila! It closes the blackout blinds. This seems a clever result until they are fully shut and I can’t see a sodding thing, let alone relocate the button.
Both hotels have good toiletries but, again, it’s a game of chance. The shower steams, I reach randomly for one of the three pump-top containers nailed to the wall. The lettering is tiny and only a slightly darker shade than the plastic bottles. It could be shampoo, conditioner, shower gel or, who knows, the elixir of youth or biodynamic camel’s milk. I am much older than the core demographic, which must be 18-25 years with 20:20 vision. Wearing spectacles in showers doesn’t work, believe me, and fewer hotels now have a tub, because they’re saving the planet’s water supplies, while simultaneously blasting it with airconditioning.
The irony in all this is that both properties have the most comfortable beds imaginable, with marshmallow-like mattress toppers and quality linen. Sleep comes easy, but only because I wear an airline eye mask, keep the blinds open to wake with the sun, and make a firm resolution to pack a magnifying glass for future travels. Watch this space.
