Mary Dejevsky
By Mary DEJEVSKY
Until quite recently we British did not really stay in hotels, at least not in the UK. We might splash out for a holiday in a tourist spot; then country-house hotel weekends became the indulgence of choice for a certain demographic.
But one reason why we and others did not patronise hotels was because there was almost nothing between the good old B&B, where you might have to mix it with your hosts to a frightening degree, and the luxury hotel which was too expensive and averse to children. If there was a midmarket answer, it resembled Fawlty Towers.
Over the past decade that has changed, with a number of home-grown chains filling the gap in the market. Premier Inn, owned by Whitbread, has just come within 1pc of topping the Which? survey of UK hotel chains, with 82pc approval. Travelodge came further down the rankings, though its approval increased to 60pc from 50pc last year. And Britannia remains bottom.
Britannia aside, the mid-market hotel scene in the UK has been transformed; to the relief, no doubt, of relatives who live far apart, of grandparents who like a bit of peace and quiet, and children who don’t have to vacate their room for visitors. When I was a child (one of four) we used to spend Easter week with our aunt, uncle, their four children and two boarders. In retrospect, even though they had a fairly large house, the logistics of this operation — from bedrooms to bathrooms to meals — were daunting. A few decades on, I rather think we might have plumped to stay in one of the newer hotels.
Which prompts a related thought. What most of us accepted until a few decades ago in terms of privacy and comfort is less acceptable today. And this relates not just to hotels, but to establishments such as hospitals and care homes … shouldn’t it? The quite scandalous phenomenon of mixed-sex wards may be on its way out, but even many new hospitals — designed with extravagant public spaces — have retained old-fashioned assumptions about communal sleeping, bathrooms and catering. Many patients are still admitted to wards where there are between 10 and 20 other patients, with just one or two private alcoves. Privacy is a diaphanous curtain that pulls around the bed. Meals are — as frequent complaints testify — unappetising and often unreachable.
Do those who design these establishments not consider the sort of accommodation they might find acceptable in the event that they, or an elderly relative, needed it?
At a Premier Inn, to take this example, the private space (the rooms) takes precedence over showy public space (such as hospital atriums). Some are built from scratch (to a pretty prosaic design); others are adapted or extended old hostelries.
This chain receives the rating it does because of its consistency; because the bedrooms and the bathrooms and the TV and the computer connections work, and because there is usually somewhere on site to eat.
The point is not that a hotel like Premier Inn offers luxury; it is that it meets today’s expectations across a wide social gamut and makes financial sense for the company and the customer. If, as is being mooted, cash-strapped hospitals want to start levying “hotel” charges, are we not entitled to ask them to become a little more like hotels?
The Guardian
By Mary DEJEVSKY
Until quite recently we British did not really stay in hotels, at least not in the UK. We might splash out for a holiday in a tourist spot; then country-house hotel weekends became the indulgence of choice for a certain demographic.
But one reason why we and others did not patronise hotels was because there was almost nothing between the good old B&B, where you might have to mix it with your hosts to a frightening degree, and the luxury hotel which was too expensive and averse to children. If there was a midmarket answer, it resembled Fawlty Towers.
Over the past decade that has changed, with a number of home-grown chains filling the gap in the market. Premier Inn, owned by Whitbread, has just come within 1pc of topping the Which? survey of UK hotel chains, with 82pc approval. Travelodge came further down the rankings, though its approval increased to 60pc from 50pc last year. And Britannia remains bottom.
Britannia aside, the mid-market hotel scene in the UK has been transformed; to the relief, no doubt, of relatives who live far apart, of grandparents who like a bit of peace and quiet, and children who don’t have to vacate their room for visitors. When I was a child (one of four) we used to spend Easter week with our aunt, uncle, their four children and two boarders. In retrospect, even though they had a fairly large house, the logistics of this operation — from bedrooms to bathrooms to meals — were daunting. A few decades on, I rather think we might have plumped to stay in one of the newer hotels.
Which prompts a related thought. What most of us accepted until a few decades ago in terms of privacy and comfort is less acceptable today. And this relates not just to hotels, but to establishments such as hospitals and care homes … shouldn’t it? The quite scandalous phenomenon of mixed-sex wards may be on its way out, but even many new hospitals — designed with extravagant public spaces — have retained old-fashioned assumptions about communal sleeping, bathrooms and catering. Many patients are still admitted to wards where there are between 10 and 20 other patients, with just one or two private alcoves. Privacy is a diaphanous curtain that pulls around the bed. Meals are — as frequent complaints testify — unappetising and often unreachable.
Do those who design these establishments not consider the sort of accommodation they might find acceptable in the event that they, or an elderly relative, needed it?
At a Premier Inn, to take this example, the private space (the rooms) takes precedence over showy public space (such as hospital atriums). Some are built from scratch (to a pretty prosaic design); others are adapted or extended old hostelries.
This chain receives the rating it does because of its consistency; because the bedrooms and the bathrooms and the TV and the computer connections work, and because there is usually somewhere on site to eat.
The point is not that a hotel like Premier Inn offers luxury; it is that it meets today’s expectations across a wide social gamut and makes financial sense for the company and the customer. If, as is being mooted, cash-strapped hospitals want to start levying “hotel” charges, are we not entitled to ask them to become a little more like hotels?
The Guardian
