Coming Home to a Hotel

Happiness for me will always be a hotel room. It’s one of the few places I feel truly at ease. Maybe it’s the transitory nature of it, or the largely impersonal anonymity of the space. Maybe it’s the simple diversion from the everyday doldrums of the tried and true. Whatever the reasons, one of my happiest pleasures in life is walking into a hotel room for the first time, setting down my luggage, seeing a perfectly-made bed, and taking a moment to simply indulge in the pristine perfection of a room that has been cleaned and laid out solely for you – the next guest. (Yes, I now know the dark underside of most hotel rooms, but I don’t care. If you knew what went on in my bedroom, you’d be less traumatized too.)

This weekend, I’ll be ensconced at the Hotel Rouge, one of the Kimpton Hotels. They usually do a fine job of offering unique rooms, quirky style, and an impeccable staff. I’m actually not a fussy traveler, and unless a room is so God-awful it’s uninhabitable (which has only happened once – at the Hotel Chelsea, when they offered me a room that opened, literally, onto a back alley and the largest cockroach I’ve ever seen in my life frightened the porter who was showing me to the room) I’ve never asked for different lodging.

Washington has a great number of good hotels, starting with these two: the Mandarin Oriental and the Dupont Circle Hotel. The former is where I had my virgin spa experience, one which changed my life for the better. It also turned a nightmarish morning flight around, the very best gift a hotel can offer. A stay at The Fairfax proved less enjoyable (but that’s on my TripAdvisor account, not my website.)

At any rate, I’m very much looking forward to this weekend at the Hotel Rouge. Red is, after all, one of my favorite colors.

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