Why the hotel bathroom should be as glamorous as the pool bar
I like the smart option of low intensity lighting at night. I just crossed Canada and I don’t see any hotel lacking in this regard other than the Last Chance Saloon in the Badlands of Alberta. There I might have been biased that the only toilet on our floor had stopped working and I was p — ing in a pitcher. The Westin Group offers the best free soaps. Their large perforation allows them to be opened straight from the package with wet hands and they have a gnarled surface so you won’t drop them immediately.
I like a mirror on a cantilever and scissors to trim my beard. And a silent fan. I don’t want canned music in the tub, thanks. White tiles and silver faucets are the best. I prefer a simple shower, not one of those big, extra-large heads that suddenly release a jet of water and wake you up in the middle of the night. In my experience, new hotels often have bathrooms that are too small. If you want a big one, go for a big hotel from the turn of the 20th century.
I had a honeymoon suite in Niagara, which had an opaque glass folding partition. Thrown back, it might reveal your loved one in the bubbly hot tub. But I kept it closed. My beloved was in Ipswich. Besides, the whole thing was painted with a filthy civil service cream. Few things date a wash as quickly as trendy bathroom colors or accessories. So overall, bright, clean, practical, and tiled in white – with the exception of safari lodges – where outdoor showers with wooden slatted borders and slatted floors suddenly seem practical, fun, and refreshing. My favorite bathrooms are probably the makeshift and crazy luxury ones under the African skies. Others should stick to the brief as above please.
For my birthday this year my husband treated me to a night at one of my favorite hotels in the UK, Limewood in the New Forest. Our lake cabin was luxurious in the extreme; wood-paneled walls, lush tapestry curtains, floor-to-ceiling windows and a terribly tempting minibar, but the piece de resistance (as far as I’m concerned, anyway) was the double-ended copper tub conveniently placed on a wooden balcony overlooking the lake.
Around cocktails and a delicious dinner, my mind continued to drift until the moment when I could undress and enjoy a breath of the cold night air, before slipping into that bath and contemplating the stars. Unfortunately, as is often the case in a long-term partnership, this was not a shared ambition. After supper, while my husband sat vaping and answering non-romantic urgent work, I basked under the night sky, smoking hot in my bubbling cauldron despite the freezing night. When he asked me if I would give him some hot water AFTER I got out, I was really desperate! This is marriage for you.