I do love an airport hotel. Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve never had a bad experience in one.
Airport hotels are a respite.
They are a welcoming luxury on busy travel days.
An airport hotel is the promise of a thick mattress. A heavy, closed door. A bathroom that may be cleaner than our own.
There’s tea. Coffee. Sometimes, a minibar. There are screens in the lobby with constantly updated departure times and arrival information and a buffet breakfast, if we are fortunate. Sometimes, we choose airport hotels based on whether or not they provide a shuttle to the airport. Sometimes, we are lucky enough to find an airport hotel that’s connected to the terminals. No shuttle needed.
I’m a Hilton loyalist. That’s where I keep most of my points. I use them, most frequently, at the Rome Airport Hilton, where the desk agent always welcomes me back. The London Gatwick Airport has both a Hilton and a Hampton Inn, one in the North Terminal and one in the South. I choose Hampton when I can because there’s a free breakfast and I like a free breakfast.
Another thing I like: the sense of stillness an airport hotel provides. Everything feels suspended. We stay at airport hotels and we are hovering between real life and somewhere else.
It’s a pause.
When we stay at an airport hotel, it’s clear we are traveling. But we are not traveling in that particular moment, not really. Instead, we are scrolling through our phones with those plush hotel pillows under our knees or propping up our heads or elevating our feet. We are watching television, even if we never watch television. Maybe the French Open finals are on or the food networks are particularly riveting or there’s someone delivering the news with a foreign accent we’re not always hearing. We’re having a scorching shower and maybe we’re using the provided bath products so we don’t have to unpack our own. We do not care about water bills and wet towels on the floor. We have nowhere to be, not in that moment at the airport hotel.
It’s not always a Hilton, but it’s always a well-known brand. Radisson or Marriott or Hyatt or Wyndham. The Best Western near the Venice airport is within walking distance to an excellent pizza restaurant with great gnocchi. Venice is all about sinking into unease, but the airport hotel is a known entity. It’s the trigger to the start of an adventure or the wrapping up of one. At the Stockholm Radisson, there is nourishing hot chocolate and mints. At the Holiday Inn airport hotel in Athens, my best friend and I put on the matching robes and branded slippers that were waiting for us in the closet. We had a bottle of wine in the bar and watched the Olympics before re-packing suitcases that we knew would be too heavy for the airline’s frowning check-in agents. We did not care. We were happy and hopeful and already laughing over the remember-whens of our trip. The airport hotel gives us the space for such mirth in the middle of travel.
That’s Europe and Europe is fabulous, but even the domestic airport hotels are reliable, easy, and ready for us when the flight is at 5am.
The Ramada in Hartford with a perfect pool.
The Doubletree in Miami with their free cookies and their bottled water handed over in a mini shopping bag with handles as if we’ve been out and about.
My sister, who gets around, is especially fond of the Hilton Tampa Airport Westshore when she’s flying in and out of Tampa. Her partner loves the Residence Inn at the San Juan, Puerto Rico airport. It’s on the beach and it’s also five minutes from the Luis Munoz Marin International Airport.
If anyone tells you I stay at the Hyatt Regency near LAX because of its proximity to In-N-Out Burger, they are not lying.
Because they’re big brands, they’re sometimes pricey. But every now and then, they’re a steal. Where else in Madrid will we pay 100 euros per night but at the Holiday Inn Express? And no, we won’t get the charm of one of those boutique hotels in the city. In fact, in most airport hotels, we are likely to be well outside of the city. But, isn’t that’s the vibe we need before or after a trip? A bit of space. A separation. The coming down or the revving up.
I have heard the complaints:
- They’re pricey.
- They’re outdated.
- They’re noisy.
- The food and beverage isn’t the best.
- The staff doesn’t care.
Save all that and take my advice: choose better airport hotels. The research is its own reward.
This institution is a beacon we approach with our suitcases and our exhaustion. Whether we are coming or going, we likely show up in that lobby dehydrated and confused. The train was late or the connection was missed. There may be doubts bouncing around in our heads about this trip, our finances, the kids and pets we have maybe left behind, or the person we have chosen to travel with.
Whatever the delights or anxieties, the airport hotel offers a moment of rest. A chance to re-arrange the pieces of our luggage, our itineraries, our photos, our lives.
I’ll never not love this familiar habitat.
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