Too loud down under | Ace Hotel Sydney

Some cities seem like natural fits for an Ace Hotel. Melbourne, for once, is definitely not an Ace kind of place. But Sydney … oh, yes, Sydney’s an Ace city. The only surprise is that it took until 2021 for the boutique chain to open its first hotel in the southern hemisphere.

A lot has changed since 2008 when I stayed in my first Ace, in Portland, Oregon (with hindsight, oddly not such an Ace-ish city). For instance: a week later I’d be out on the streets of Seattle cheering the election of President Obama. So the world’s shifted a great deal. So have I. Tonally, the Ace has stayed much the same – and maybe, I have to admit after staying at Ace Hotel Sydney, I’ve outgrown it.

Take the Ace Sydney’s 18th-floor restaurant, Kiln – the name inspired by the handsome Surry Hills building’s former life as a brickworks. I was perhaps the only person dining at Kiln who was over 40 years of age, and – I’m going to guess – among the few there who could not identify a Kardashian should one have walked in, much less aspire to looking like one myself. The atmosphere is so buzzy and frantic it gives you a contact high: less pre-club than actually like being in a nightclub – an uneasy fit with the fairly involved menu. Some of the food was distinctive in the sense of being weird: a fish crudo with tomato jelly and slices of peach was neither particularly flavourful nor, surprisingly, all that visually arresting. Significantly better was a steak for two (I wasn’t alone, I’m not that greedy) which I ordered, pointedly, to see whether the kitchen was good with core items or was just interested in the Instagram-remarkable – nearly every dish was being photographed by diners before they tucked in (or flipped the screen to check their makeup).

Lunch at the Lobby restaurant the next day was altogether more low-key: well-proportioned burgers, salads and sandwiches, in a light-filled room. This elevated ground floor area – all olive greens and antique  oranges – doubles as the coffee and cocktail bar and daytime hangout for the laptop-happy, a setup that feels so synonymous with the Ace that it’s as if the chain invented co-working spaces. The same colour palette is carried through into public areas (plenty of raw wood and concrete, hung with poppy contemporary art, much of it by First Nations artists) and into the bedrooms: muted earth tones, pleasantly artisanal-feeling furnishings, and textured straw panelling on walls that looks good and, I began to suspect, might be muffling the sounds of partying going on in every room around mine. It’s that nice mix of the comfortable and the industrial that has been much plagiarised by younger hotels, but Ace still knows how to do it best.

Less successful is the actual lobby, in which reception desk, several artworks and a shoplet of Ace-branded bags and garments all vie for space. It’s all a bit frantic and cluttered, as if guests started arriving before everything had been tidied away. From here, four little steps lead to the lifts, stairs and Lobby restaurant; checking in, I saw one guest fall down them and another trip up them in a few minutes: not the best first impression.

This is a funny old city – sometimes I love its slickness and spark; at other times, its showiness and wow-factor views seem to indicate a rather depthless city. For better or worse, the Ace Hotel is a seamless fit for this place: unashamedly brash and fun, and very Sydney. C

Ace Hotel Sydney, 47–53 Wentworth Street, Surry Hills SYD 2000
61-2 8099 8799; acehotel.com/sydney