Poland Hotels Booking

Lately this mix of modern and historic architecture is something of a Spanish trademark. Look no further than the EME Fusion Hotel, in the heart of old town Sevilla, just across the way from the ancient Giralda cathedral. The “fusion,” one imagines, is the mix of ornate arabesque patterns, a reference to the cathedral’s Moorish heritage, with the modern minimalist stone and wood interiors of this sixty-room boutique hotel.

Like any Spanish hotel worth its salt, the EME is a soothing shelter from the light and heat of the day, but with a terrace that’s open to the cool night air after the sun goes down. Some rooms overlook the cathedral itself, and the better ones come with Jacuzzis; not entirely necessary, though, given the views from the rooftop pool deck.

And the nightlife is the final factor in the equation. For such a historic town Sevilla is surprisingly youthful, and they stay up late here, as everywhere in Spain. The hotel itself boasts several nightspots, including a japanese restaurant in addition to the tapas bar and Mediterranean-themed lounge — and the location, central as can be, means you’re close by to the shops, bars and restaurants, and of course the Giralda itself.

Poor overlooked San Diego — not even California’s second city, it’s long been overshadowed by Los Angeles, San Francisco, maybe even Orange County. Of late, however, overlooking San Diego means overlooking some ever more stylish hotels — Tower 23, for example, would turn heads even in the fashion-forward L.A. scene.

Don’t go imagining some kind of Tokyo-style skyscraper hotel. Despite the name, Tower 23 is no high-rise — this 44-room compound is named after a lifeguard tower on Pacific Beach. Inside it’s more fashionista than beach bum, however, with the sort of pared-down minimalist décor we’re more accustomed to seeing in Hollywood or Miami.

Rooms come with all the modern conveniences they could pack in, including LCD televisions, Bose stereos and Xbox game systems. The better ones look out over the ocean from private balconies, and suites have whirlpool tubs with chromatherapy lighting.

Jordan, the restaurant, serves steak and seafood in a beachfront space by the architect Graham Downes, and the open-air Tower Deck upstairs serves drinks and lighter fare to hotel guests only. One small caveat: while the Pacific Beach location is obviously perfect for seafaring types, those hungry for nightlife will have to either learn to love the Tower Bar (certainly no chore) or spring for a cab ride to the Gaslamp quarter, San Diego’s dining and entertainment district.

Until lately the Brussels hotel scene has remained fairly conservative — some fine business hotels, and some gorgeous old-world mansions, but little in the way of modern design fireworks. Be Manos, however, changes all that — this chic little gem around the corner from the Gare du Midi occupies the high end of the boutique-hotel market, and it’s the kind of place you’re more likely to run into a flock of Belgian designers than a gaggle of EU bureaucrats.

The neighborhood isn’t Brussels’ most picturesque, but what it lacks in glamour it makes up for in convenience — the Gare du Midi is where the Eurostar and the Thalys trains stop, meaning London, Paris and Amsterdam are practically on your doorstop.

Anyway all is forgiven once through the doors of this renovated Twenties townhouse. The interiors are all high drama, monochrome, silver and mirrors, full of bold lighting effects. The rooms lean heavily on the black and are not just striking but luxurious as well, with king beds and stone-tiled bathrooms. Be Lella is a breakfast room by day, restaurant by night, and the Be Bar and the Black Lounge (complete with an outdoor terrace) round out the social spaces.

This is the first in what has become a sort of German mini-genre—the art’otel. Don’t confuse it with a design hotel, unless you mean a hotel dedicated to and decked out with works by a particular designer (Arne Jacobsen’s SAS Copenhagen comes to mind). An art’otel is not just an artistic hotel, or a self-conscious modern-design hotel, but a sort of cross between a hotel and a gallery, nearly as much an exhibition space as a lodging.

And there’s the rub. Some have found art’otel berlin kudamm to be over-designed, too clever, too modern and whimsical, without enough of the old four-posters and marble bathtubs we expect from a decent hotel. Well, that’s entirely the point. Not to be tedious about it, but one should come here prepared for the daring design, for the artworks, for the experience, as this hotel demands attention.

What’s more, this hotel isn’t dedicated to the work of a minimalist artist, or someone tasteful and decorative—this place belongs (aesthetically speaking) to the late Fluxus artist Wolf Vostell, who began as a painter and migrated through collage, installation, video, performance art and happenings (that least tolerated medium of the Sixties) before finally, in the Eighties and Nineties, making sculptures from whole automobiles. His was an outsize and garish sensibility, and his work has little in common with the sort of quiet background art on display in the average hotel.

The rooms are extremely modern in design, blending Fifties classic designer pieces with newer work by the ubiquitous Philippe Starck. And in contrast to most highly designed hotels, comfort and space are emphasized—beds are large and plush, and the bathrooms are roomy and highly functional, however daring the fixtures.

And perhaps most surprising for this sort of hotel (and the element that will save the experience for disgruntled traditionalists) is the service. It’s incongruous in a place with such iconoclastic looks, but the service is on par with that one finds in Berlin’s more grown-up and classic luxury hotels. So don’t worry: even if modern design unsettles you, and even if the enormous green cactus sculpture frightens you as it lurks behind your barstool, you can rest assured that you will be well taken care of by the art’otel’s staff—and that there won’t be any “happenings” during your stay.

The sunset-blue facade of the Heritage hotel is the only original remnant of this 18th-century palace on Lisbon’s Avenida Liberdade; the interiors are unrecognizable, pure contemporary luxury, courtesy of the designer Miguel Câncio Martins, perhaps best known for the interiors of the Buddha Bar in Paris. There’s no oversized religious idol dominating the space here, but there is a certain similarity of style, if you look closely: rich materials, classic references, clean lines and a warm, welcoming palette.

But it’s a hotel, you say, not an interior design catalog. And of course you’re right. What matters most is that the rooms are big and airy, sunny when you want them to be and blacked-out when you don’t, and packed with thoughtful extras like hideaway televisions and CD/DVD entertainment centers. Beds and baths are the focus, the former king-sized and heaping with pillows and fine linens, the latter bright, spacious and well-equipped.

The Heritage group works harder on service than on self-promotion, and it shows — this is the kind of boutique hotel that feels cozy and homey, where others come off self-promoting and exclusionary. It’s simple enough, just a good-looking and comfortable hotel, in a convenient location, staffed by the kind of people who are happy to look after you — sometimes that’s all it takes.

A little off the beaten path, in a residential neighborhood on the Aventine Hill, the Hotel San Anselmo is ideal for that most paradoxical of escapes: the big-city hideaway. Whether it’s a lovers’ weekend or just some time alone, it’s an undeniable fact that some of us would rather disappear to the city than the countryside — and a charming little boutique hotel like the San Anselmo is just the place to do it.

Though it’s an authentic 19th-century villa, the hotel’s current style is neither painstakingly period nor charmlessly contemporary. Antique furnishings and explicit historical references mix with graphic elements — poetry scrawled on walls, Bisazza mosaic tiles in bathrooms. It certainly doesn’t lack for personality, and we’ll take personality over design-catalogue minimalism any day.

If you’re looking for the typical Roman tourist experience, this might not be your place; while there are sights to be seen on the Aventine Hill — the Colosseum, for example, isn’t terribly far away — you might be better served by something more central. If you’re looking for an escape within the city, however, this is the place to do it, and get a taste of the residential side of Rome while you’re at it.

In the dazzling modern metropolis of Kuala Lumpur many of us would be tempted to stay in one of the super-sized contemporary business hotels, the 500-rooms-plus palaces that are, to be fair, just about as good as it gets, as long as coziness and intimacy are not chief among your concerns.

At the other end of the scale, however, there’s Carcosa Seri Negara. Rather than a skyscraper in the central business district, here we’re talking about a colonial mansion overlooking the city’s sedate Lake Gardens park. Once the residence of the British colonial governor, today it’s a luxe thirteen-suite lodging, complete with round-the-clock butler service and verandas with views of the manicured lawns and tropical gardens.

Once inside it’s apparent this space could have easily been divided into twice as many rooms. The bedrooms are spacious, the sitting rooms generously sized, and the verandahs are actually useful, a far cry from the inch-deep French balcony you’ll find in many a lesser hotel. Suites are individually designed, all with antique furnishings and vast bright bathrooms.

Small though it may be, Carcosa Seri Negara doesn’t skimp on services. Not one but two restaurants are at your service, as well as a cocktail bar and afternoon tea in the drawing room. And with a butler at your disposal twenty-four hours a day, just about anything the big hotels can offer is within your reach as well.

Not just any old castle, but a lovingly restored Art Deco revival; which means that Bovey Castle is rich with classic character, but a little less precious than some of England’s museum-piece castle hotels. This one is meant to be inhabited, not just seen — it’s no less devoted to its theme, but the fact that the interiors are a modern re-creation somehow sends the message that you won’t be scolded for leaving fingerprints.

The full name of the place these days is Bovey Castle Luxury Hotel & Sporting Estate, which may be a bit wordy but pretty well sums it up. Bedrooms are beyond comfortable, with views of the grounds and gardens, and luxurious black-and-white Deco bathrooms come stocked with Elemis products. Outside the main castle building fourteen granite lodges offer another level of privacy, and kitchens to boot.

There’s a full-service spa, complete with fitness center and both indoor and outdoor pools. This, along with the golf course, comprises the “sporting estate” portion of Bovey’s entertainment — the course, designed in the Twenties by JF Abercromby, is as traditional as they come. And here the sporting life is associated with a great deal of lounging; the castle’s public spaces are exquisite, from innumerable salons and drawing rooms down to the Palm Court dining room.

The landmark Beaux-Arts exterior of the ten-story St. Paul Hotel, in the heart of the historic district of Vieux Montréal, is utterly at odds with what’s inside—an utterly modern and minimalist hotel, something light and ethereal, straight from the pages of a design magazine. Stylish contemporary furnishings decorate the lobby, surrounding a fireplace of translucent alabaster, an effect that must be seen to be believed. And like many of the converted buildings in Old Montreal, the St. Paul benefits from sprawling spaces, high ceilings and large picture windows.

Rooms are just as stunning as the lobby, with traditional materials like polished hardwoods, raw metal and exposed stone, and clean, crisp modernist lines. Windows expose the space to natural light and make for panoramic views of the old quarter, and the bathrooms feel like little museums, with square marble sinks and stylish fittings. Animal skins drape over designer chairs, and closets and desks are generous and functional.

High-speed internet is standard, and the hotel’s meeting facilities are suitable for a modest conference. Leisure travelers, though, may get the most out of the St. Paul; the Cube restaurant is another impressive space, serving an eclectic cuisine amidst custom-designed tables and settings. The Raw Bar is a suitably clubby environment, the sort of place where in-the-know locals mix with hotel patrons, and the bars, restaurants and shops of Vieux Montréal are just outside.

For 70-odd years this top-class Swiss mountain resort was strictly a ski-season getaway. But Arosa isn’t just for skiers anymore: as travelers everywhere embrace the sporting life, mountain playgrounds like Graubünden are becoming year-round options — and hotels like the Tschuggen Grand are expanding their appeal.

Aesthetically it’s not quite what you’d expect from a Swiss mountain chalet. A Sixties renovation is responsible for the modernist silhouette of the main building, and the brand-new spa complex by the Swiss architect Mario Botta is a bit of contemporary whimsy, its skylit dormers bearing a striking resemblance to a fleet of sailboats on an Alpine lake. The interiors are refreshingly contemporary as well, clean-lined but still welcoming and warm — old fabrics made new in ceiling-height headboards, and views maximized by those big Sixties windows.

The spa is a big draw, and not just for its architecture. It’s a destination unto itself in fairer months, and it’d be hard to say no to a soak or a massage after a day on the slopes as well. Outdoor offerings include tennis, hiking, and mountain biking, and even golf is a bit of a workout at this elevation — at 2,000 meters it’s the highest course in Europe. The bottom line: it’s a Swiss-resort classic without the chalet-style frills, and it’s not just for winter anymore.

The Palacio del Baílio is the Córdoba branch of the Hospes franchise, and while the word “Palacio” may put some of us in mind of an old-fashioned grand hotel — like the seaside palaces of Cannes, for example — this is a palace of an entirely different kind. More a mansion than a hotel, it’s equal parts hacienda and Moorish manor, with some rooms opening onto ancillary patios, and others in the main building ringing the main courtyard, with its majestic old palms and pleasantly cool outdoor swimming pool.

Plenty of the original structure remains, from many different eras — some rooms feature century-old frescoes or ancient stone arches behind their antique doors. The main building’s atrium looks down through a glass floor into the ruins of a Roman-era villa, which can’t help but lend an extra air of historical authenticity to the Roman baths in the underground spa.

It’s no museum, though — this backdrop of antiquity just serves as a contrast to the crisp contemporary interiors, the sort of thing that’s made the Hospes name one to remember. They’re spare but not minimal, luxurious but not ostentatious, big-city downtown boutique style transported to an Andalusian country town, with cool stone surfaces and as much darkness as you can take — in southern Spain sunlight is plentiful, and shade is precious.

The Palacio is a self-contained oasis, if you want it to be; the spa and pool deck make for a bit of a resort atmosphere, and the restaurant serves innovative modern-Spanish cuisine, sourced from local ingredients. And if you fancy a walk, Córdoba has plenty to recommend it — you’re in the heart of the charming old town, and a fifteen-minute walk from its most famous attraction, the millenium-old mosque-turned-cathedral with its distinctive forest of arches.

“Yes, well, I’m more worried about what China is doing.” It’s the last refuge of the unrepentant carbon-guzzler, who will, in the next sentence, go on to remind you that there are a billion people there, just in case you somehow didn’t know, and they’re all busily undoing whatever environmental good you and your hybrid automobile might hope to accomplish. Here’s a rebuttal, in the form of a boutique hotel that’s not only as sleek and stylish as any in the world, but green as well.

Carbon-neutral, in fact, not just through paid-for offsets but through clever energy-reduction measures as well. It’s a retrofit of an old post office, rather than a new build, it re-uses local Shanghai bricks and reclaimed hardwoods, and it features a number of high-tech energy-saving measures, the details of which are frankly too boring to get into. But trust us, they’re great.

Feeling smug about one’s tiny environmental footprint would be cold comfort, though, if the hotel weren’t otherwise a fine one. Happily this one is. You’ll find king-sized platform beds, walk-in showers and separate stone bathtubs, all the electronic gadgetry you could wish for, and even in-room fitness kits.

The location, two blocks off Nanjing Road, places you right in the thick of it, surrounded by more shopping and nightlife options than you’ll know what to do with. The owners, a pair of young property developers, have plans for a total of twenty URBN hotels around China — before long, with any luck, it’ll be the Chinese complaining about the West’s environmental insensitivity.

Much is made of Prague’s medieval history, and to be honest, it’s inescapable. If you’re anywhere near the old town, a walk around the block is a trip to the Middle Ages. But there’s no reason why this historic city’s hotels need to be backward-looking — this place is firmly established as a travel destination, and there’s plenty of demand for stylish, contemporary accommodation. Which is where the Icon Hotel comes in.

This 31-room boutique hotel freshens up the usual modern-design formula, avoiding the typical monochrome palette for golden wood and violet. And this is one hotel where you won’t see the same off-the-shelf furniture that’s currently in the catalogs; the Icon was furnished by Modernista, a local firm specializing in reissues of twentieth-century Czech modernist design pieces.

Technology is everywhere: not just the usual LCD televisions, but Skype phones and fingerprint-activated safes as well. Other thoughtful touches include boutique-label toiletries and linens, Hästens handmade beds (which everyone ought to sleep on at least once) and a selection of Thai massages. Czech art abounds, from the hallways on down to the Jet Set restaurant and lounge, and just outside is the ancient city center and Wenceslas Square.

Even as it gains momentum as a sun-drenched Italian holiday destination, it’s worth remembering that Puglia has been here a long time. Why exactly it’s booming right now is anyone’s guess, but they didn’t just knock the place together out of plywood and plaster in a bid to divert tourist dollars out of Tuscany. It’s a place with a quite distinct history and style, both of which are on display at the Relais Villa San Martino, at the edge of the old town of Martina Franca.

It’s inland, more or less right in the middle of the triangle described by Bari, Brindisi and Taranto. While the landscape is typically Pugliese, dry and sparse, this restored 19th-century farmhouse is surrounded by uncharacteristically lush gardens. And the house has been carefully returned to its former glory not by an interior decorator with a B&B Italia account but by an art restorer Martino Solito, a man whose profession obviously demands a keen eye for the authentic.

The public spaces and the twenty-three rooms and suites are classic in style, with thoughtful modern luxuries alongside the antiques. A palm-fringed pool and a basement spa make for maximum relaxation, and the Duca di Martina restaurant showcases Puglia’s cooking and winemaking traditions.

The first upscale boutique hotel in Sri Lanka’s interior brings new meaning to the phrase “instant classic.” Though just opened in 2005, Kandy House has roots two centuries old — from 1804 on it was home to one of Sri Lanka’s ruling families — and the stylish, newly renovated interiors stop a bit short of trendy minimalism, instead mixing modern fixtures and materials with traditional architecture and an impressive array of antique furniture.

All of the eight rooms (and one suite) are contained in the old manor house, so the experience is a remarkably authentic one — there’s no television, and without air conditioning you’re forced to engage with your environment a bit, throw open those windows or even step out on the veranda and survey the grounds of the estate and the jungle beyond. Authentic doesn’t mean uncomfortable, though, as the ceiling fans and the gentle hill country breeze keep things cool, and the four-poster beds and claw-foot tubs are classic low-tech luxury.

In fact there’s little to do here that wouldn’t have been possible to 19th-century guests as well — the courtyard and the verandah are still the house’s main attractions, though the pool is presumably of newer vintage. Food is upscale traditional Sri Lankan, with produce selected daily from the market in Kandy proper. And for a look into Sri Lanka’s pre-colonial past, you can’t do better than the city of Kandy and its surrounding region — this part of the interior was the last holdout against colonization, and cultural monuments abound, including the Temple of the Tooth Relic of Buddha (which is, if you’re wondering, pretty much exactly what it sounds like).

Up north in Bahia is where you’ll find the wilder, rougher side of Brazil — which for anyone bored of the beach scene in Rio is not a warning but a positive enticement. Trancoso was one of the prototypical fishing-villages-turned-hideaways, and there’s still plenty of that mellow bohemian vibe about it. Which Etnia Pousada trades upon quite liberally.

Far-flung though it may be, Etnia is owned by a pair of Italian expat hipsters, who lend their creation a certain easy cosmopolitanism. Rooms are themed after classic destinations, from Goa to Marrakech to Kyoto, and incredibly they manage to be tasteful about it, getting the blend between kitsch and authenticity exactly right.

Ultimately though the style is somewhat beside the point. What counts here is the atmosphere (unrelentingly mellow), as well as the environment — surrounded by tall trees you’re comfortably secluded, with even the beach a good ten minutes away. Enjoy the silence at the poolside, or a massage in the Etnia’s mini-spa. Or else check out the old town of Trancoso — while certainly not a resort town it is a getaway for a lot of discerning Brazilians, and the Etnia’s antique store joins a number of surprisingly upscale shops in the old town center.

Up north in Bahia is where you’ll find the wilder, rougher side of Brazil — which for anyone bored of the beach scene in Rio is not a warning but a positive enticement. Trancoso was one of the prototypical fishing-villages-turned-hideaways, and there’s still plenty of that mellow bohemian vibe about it. Which Etnia Pousada trades upon quite liberally.

Far-flung though it may be, Etnia is owned by a pair of Italian expat hipsters, who lend their creation a certain easy cosmopolitanism. Rooms are themed after classic destinations, from Goa to Marrakech to Kyoto, and incredibly they manage to be tasteful about it, getting the blend between kitsch and authenticity exactly right.

Ultimately though the style is somewhat beside the point. What counts here is the atmosphere (unrelentingly mellow), as well as the environment — surrounded by tall trees you’re comfortably secluded, with even the beach a good ten minutes away. Enjoy the silence at the poolside, or a massage in the Etnia’s mini-spa. Or else check out the old town of Trancoso — while certainly not a resort town it is a getaway for a lot of discerning Brazilians, and the Etnia’s antique store joins a number of surprisingly upscale shops in the old town center.

We may go to São Paulo for a taste of Brazil but when the Paulistanos are in the mood to escape, some head east: to São Sebastião, a coastal enclave some two and a half hours away. It’s not a resort town, per se, nor is it the “humble fishing village” of Brazilian-tourism cliché — it’s a town whose inhabitants, some of them part-timers, privately carry on the business of enjoying the beachfront geography and (nearly) tropical climate. Which makes it ideal for a small and intimate getaway like the Ilha de Toque Toque.

Its situation just outside of town means it’s on the quiet side, which is entirely the point. The ten rooms sit on a hillside fifty meters above the sea, with hammocks on their decks, overlooking a charmingly unfinished beach. Quite a contrast with the high-rise hotels of somewhere like Rio — here the activities are more on the sedate side, with guests lounging by the pool or in the spa, or else making their way down to the beach or exploring the jungle on foot or mountain bike. There’s nothing all that glamorous about it, aside from the glamour inherent in disappearing to the Brazilian seashore for a while — which, for many of us, is more than enough.

We may go to São Paulo for a taste of Brazil but when the Paulistanos are in the mood to escape, some head east: to São Sebastião, a coastal enclave some two and a half hours away. It’s not a resort town, per se, nor is it the “humble fishing village” of Brazilian-tourism cliché — it’s a town whose inhabitants, some of them part-timers, privately carry on the business of enjoying the beachfront geography and (nearly) tropical climate. Which makes it ideal for a small and intimate getaway like the Ilha de Toque Toque.

Its situation just outside of town means it’s on the quiet side, which is entirely the point. The ten rooms sit on a hillside fifty meters above the sea, with hammocks on their decks, overlooking a charmingly unfinished beach. Quite a contrast with the high-rise hotels of somewhere like Rio — here the activities are more on the sedate side, with guests lounging by the pool or in the spa, or else making their way down to the beach or exploring the jungle on foot or mountain bike. There’s nothing all that glamorous about it, aside from the glamour inherent in disappearing to the Brazilian seashore for a while — which, for many of us, is more than enough.

Prague is a city so steeped in history that even the brand-new high-design boutique hotels have stories that reach back centuries. This one is no different — it started its life as a monasterial brewery some time in the 14th century, lived through several reconstructions (in Renaissance, Baroque and Neoclassical styles), some expansions into neighboring buildings, a stint as the Wallenstein restaurant, and now, finally, begins a new life as the twenty-room Hotel at the Three Storks. Inside, now, it’s as new as tomorrow, re-designed with the help of the Czech-born and London-based architect Eva Jiřičná.

Rooms come with parquet floors, platform beds, curvy modern furnishings, and all the technological bells and whistles — LCD televisions with DVD players, wi-fi internet, even high-tech indirect lighting. Eighteen doubles of varying sizes are joined by two of that rare beast, the single room, perfect for the business traveler who’d rather not be reminded that he can’t fill a king bed on his own. Still there, albeit in a new incarnation, is the Wallenstein restaurant, serving a traditional Czech cuisine with a pronounced French influence — and just outside, as ever, is the old city, the ancient streets of the Lesser Town, in the shadow of Prague Castle.