The anonymity of hotels fascinates me. One of the hotel staff I interviewed at Corinthia London as part of my residency and research for my script, who had worked in hotels for decades, summarised hotels brilliantly. He said “No one goes to a hotel to be themselves. Once the doors are open, anyone can come in and they can say they are anyone.” I love the fact that there are so many secret lives being led behind closed doors and the next day it’s all cleared away and it’s like it never existed. Very much like a dream really: you wake up and wonder if any of what happened was real…
I actually did my own turn down at home for a fortnight after I left. I’d fold my flat sheet over my duvet and put a bag of lavender on the pillow
I pretty much lived at the Corinthia during the residency. It was an incredible immersive experience when it came to researching and writing a piece for a specific location, the like of which I’ll probably never have again. It got to a point where I was like Alan Partridge though, coming down to the lobby each day and distracting the staff from their work by chatting and ordering neverending lattes. I never brought my own plate in though, I didn’t go that far. The staff were just incredible, so welcoming and kind – it really did feel like they were my flatmates by the end! – and the Corinthia pays an incredible level of attention to detail, so you feel like the staff anticipate your every need. It was very fun pretending that I was a princess who gets waited on in her palace, her bed turned down twice a day with a luxury spa as a bathroom. (I actually did my own turn down at home for a fortnight after I left. I’d fold my flat sheet over my duvet and put a bag of lavender on the pillow and a bottle of water by the bed. Sad? Yeah.)
One of my favourite films of all time, Some Like it Hot, is set in a hotel, and uses every facet of a hotel that could be used for drama and farce to the fullest. What a film! The Place We Go To Hide is about two people who fall in love while sleepwalking. Sleepwalking also fascinates me and there are countless funny and sometimes extremely tragic stories of sleepwalkers in hotels.
Every year on Fresh Meat, we stay in serviced apartments for months and last year we were all on the same floor. It was very Royal Tenanbaums, but with more takeaways and whiskey. When I was on a UK tour DJing I was in different hotels for weeks on end. And we’re not talking five star! I have little hotel rituals to cope with the disorientation. I always go in, turn on the telly for company, unpack my toiletries, check the shower pressure and then put a book on the bedside table.
Of course I’m a fan of the “champagne amnesty” in grander hotels – I love champagne with breakfast when the occasion calls for it – but for me the real luxury of a hotel is all about eating in bed without judgment. You can have a beautiful spa, gorgeous grounds… but eating a delicious meal in a comfy, well turned down bed? Bliss. There are some who would swiftly kick me out of bed for that occasional habit I’m sure!
I couldn’t pick a favourite hotel where I’ve stayed – different hotels have different unique elements. The rooftop pool at Hotel Saratoga in Havana is insane. You have views across the whole of old and new Havana. You can sit in your swimsuit with a Mojito and imagine you’re a 50s movie star as the vintage cars roll by. It’s breathtaking. It really is like being transported to another era. The crudités at La Colombe d’Or in St-Paul-de-Vence is not to be missed! It’s literally a huge crate of the freshest veg put in front of you, for you to cut and peel by yourself, with a dip that tastes like heaven. And the signature scent they have at Hôtel Costes in Paris is just genius. It transports you back to really specific memories of staying there every time you smell it. It’s a very powerful publicity tool! I really wouldn’t call for help if I somehow became stuck in that hotel for a considerable length of time…
I had a bad experience turn instantly good when I stayed at Soho House Berlin. I came in really late from a gig, only to be met by the manager who told me with a really concerned and apologetic face that a main had burst and flooded my room, and they had only just been able to rescue all of my stuff. I panicked, until he said with the same concerned expression “I’m so sorry, we have had to move you to the penthouse suite as it’s the only spare room available for the next few days. But it’s Madonna’s room of choice when she stays. I hope that will be satisfactory.” I tried to play it cool – “Oh yeah, Madonna, she’s got great taste” (idiot!) … at least until I got up to the room, checked all my stuff wasn’t completely waterlogged, and then screamed and jumped up and down on my bed like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I hadn’t considered the manager was probably still outside.
If I were to create a hotel of my own, it would be based very much on the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz
If I were to create a hotel of my own, it would be based very much on the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz. There would be a huge yellow brick road leading up to it and vast fields of poppies outside. There would obviously be a lot of emerald fixtures and fittings, from the chandeliers to the taps. We’d have a signature line of products and scents called OZ, which would permeate the hotel and would smell like the woods and red apples. Oh! And the hotel slippers would be based on Dorothy’s ruby variety, of course, complete with the little bows on the front. And I’d eventually open an affordable sister hotel called Kansas with a more rustic, barnyard feel. C
Picture, top: Zawe Ashton with actress Daisy Lowe, on the set of The Place We Go to Hide, by Amy Ashton
