Dear Inn Keeper
Ideas to Smooth the Path for Weary Travelers
Dear Innkeeper,
I write to you sheepishly, from the soft-pillowed side of life. After years of hopping from quirky hotels to downright disgusting digs, I’ve accumulated a few thoughts. My travel woes are small, my gratitude is large, and my opinions? Shockingly specific. I offer them with affection, humor, and deep respect for anyone who runs a place where strangers sleep, voluntarily.
As you oversee your wayfarers’ stop, I have three basic requirements (I swear this is reasonable):
1. Clean.
I have encountered everything from a used condom to rotting mangos hosting an ant convention to long, mysterious hairs upon check-in. Nothing ruins a stay faster than discovering the archaeological remains of a previous guest.
2. Odorless.
A profound mildew smell creeping out of the air conditioner or fryer fumes wafting up from the kitchen below will absolutely undo me. The same goes for rooms aggressively scented with air fresheners and cleaning products that scream, “We are hiding something.”
3. Quiet
I have stayed above loud bars, across from louder bars, and adjacent to walls that transmitted passionate moans with IMAX clarity. I’ve been rattled by slamming doors and startled awake by elevator announcements. From 10 p.m. to 7 a.m., sounds should be minimal and ideally nonexistent.
Beyond the basics is the bonus round. If you’re aiming for a truly high-quality guest experience, consider:
A good mattress and quality bedding, not wrapped in plastic. No one enjoys sleeping on a giant Ziploc bag or resting their head on a lumpy betrayal of a pillow.
A favorite that we measure others by. Space for two suitcases. Extra credit for a dresser or closet, as opposed to the floor-based lifestyle.
Toilet paper placed somewhere that does not get soaked by the shower and can be reached without becoming a contortionist while seated on the potty.
Temperature controls we can adjust ourselves. Extra credit for a window that opens and lets in fresh air.
Hooks for towels. We want to be environmentally responsible and reuse them, but without hooks, this becomes a soggy moral dilemma.
A nightlight or dim bathroom light to guide us safely at 3 a.m..
No stairs to navigate at night to reach the bathroom. I will turn your plastic trash can into a bucket potty before I risk breaking my neck at 2 a.m. This is not an empty threat.
Marble stairs down to the bathroom were too scary for a night time trip so I needed a work around. Lots of accessible outlets. I know I am the 67,413 person to mention this, but I implore you, please don’t make me unplug a lamp, move furniture, or choose between charging my phone and seeing at night.
And if you really want to win my heart, consider:
A kettle for hot water. Even better if it comes with decaf tea, creamer in little pods (not powder, never powder), and skip the Sweet’N Low.
Nespresso is awesome BUT Coffee Mate is a disappointment. Minimizing clutter. The giant conch shell, basket of fake fruit, or wooden sign declaring “Good Vibes Only” just get in my way.
A bedside clock that doesn’t require an electrical engineering degree to reset. It is inevitably wrong because there aren’t enough outlets and it’s been unplugged to power a previous guest’s CPAP.
Lamps and bedside tables on BOTH sides of the bed. Mike and I don’t need one more thing to fight about on vacation.
Products in wall dispensers with readable labels. As a human of a certain age, I cannot read tiny font in the shower without my glasses. I would like to know whether I’m conditioning my hair or washing it with hand soap.
Color coded and large print. Way to go! Bathroom space for toiletries. A shelf, a ledge, a drawer—anything other than the back of the toilet, where I risk dropping my toothbrush and retainer into the abyss.
Finally, if you want to truly delight me, surprise me kindly. I love finding a little sachet of bath salts. Mike still fondly remembers the hotel with a cookie jar. I will do a happy dance if a newspaper appears under the door. The innkeepers of days past were onto something with that chocolate on the pillow.
In my experience, the best stays are those that thoughtfully consider diverse needs. Very nice hotels can still be deeply uncomfortable when they prioritize aesthetics over actual comfort. I implore you, Dear Innkeeper: stay in your own hotel. Experience it as your guests do. Sleep there. Shower there. Attempt to find the toilet paper at night.
With affection and very specific hopes,
A Grateful Traveler
P.S. Dear Readers - What did I miss? What did I get wrong? If this was published in a travel industry magazine what would you include? Do you have hotel experiences to share?
Everything you mentioned is truly spot on. I just stayed in a hotel that had the teensy weensy bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I do not like those because they are bad for the environment. And also hard to use. Dispensers are a big step forward.
Totally spot on, and I’ve encountered all of those things. Great idea to have the innkeeper sleep in their own place (and not alone :-) ). My daughter has a habit of really checking between mattresses for bed bugs. On one, we found a used broken crack pipe. It wasn’t even that dirty of a place, just old. We wondered how they could have made the bed without finding it, although it was not right at the edge. And it’s amazing how minimalist some places are getting, intentionally taking out the 2nd bedside table, etc. Another thing that kills me is when they have a comforter with no top sheet. So you can’t just get too hot and throw off the cover and sleep with just a sheet on. Very irritating for us hot flash prone old farts. Thanks for sharing!