I don’t want a hotel that’s a ‘home away from home’. I want the opposite

Which is why small irritations, such as night lights that won’t switch off, incomprehensible shower mechanisms, misbehaving iPads, and housekeepers that don’t turn up, become major annoyances, even to the point of ruining a stay.

We guests have played our part in the deal by choosing the hotel and paying the tariff. In return, we expect safety and convenience, at the very least.

“Guest” sometimes feels like a stretch, especially if you strike a Fawlty Towers-like situation, or when hotel management seems indifferent to your complaints. But I don’t want to gripe about hotels. I want to give them some love. Because when hotels do things well, they are marvellous.

One of my favourite things in the world is to have a big, comfortable hotel room all to myself, preferably with a fabulous view and a deep bath, and to know there is someone a telephone call away who will handle my luggage and bring me things I need.

In the morning, someone will come and clean up after me.

If you think of value rather than price, the memory of a night in a plush hotel can be worth more than the room rate.

How wonderful is that? I don’t pretend to be so egalitarian I don’t crave pampering occasionally. A hotel room is not home, and I don’t want it to be. Hotels that boast about being “residential style” and a “home away from home” have it wrong.

It’s precisely the things I don’t have at home – someone to make my bed, cook for me, put me in a taxi, pour my coffee – that I cherish about hotels. Who returns home after a couple of weeks at a resort and says, “I can’t wait to start cooking family meals again”, or “I’m looking forward to getting the vacuum cleaner out”?

It’s a spoil, even if you’re just in transit. Give me doormen, concierges, porters, housekeepers and room service waiters. Chocolates on the pillow. Fresh flowers. Towel art. Trolleys with breakfast eggs under silver domes. I love the whole performance of it. The more theatrical the better, as long as it’s not a farce. It’s so much more than an Airbnb or short-term rental.

Of course, there are circumstances, such as longer stays or family travels, when renting an apartment makes more sense and is more economical than a hotel room. But as a solo traveller, I don’t love staggering around in the dark in unfamiliar streets looking for the right key lock. I like a reception desk.

I’ve stayed in many of the world’s storied hotels, the ones that make the “world’s best” list year after year. And they are truly wonderful, especially those that have been in the hands of the same family or owners for decades. They have thought about what guests need across generations. And they’ve respected their history and invited guests to be part of the story too.

Many of these, it is true, are expensive stays. The upkeep of historical hotels is costly, and this is reflected in the tariff. These days, the wealthy who tend to gravitate towards them demand more luxuries than ever. (Frankly, I like my historic hotels a little shabby.)

But if you think of value rather than price, the memory of a night in a plush hotel can be worth more than the room rate. That’s why honeymooners and people celebrating anniversaries splurge on them. If there wasn’t something inherently magical about the experience, no one would bother.

Still, a hotel doesn’t have to be expensive to be good. I remember checking into a cheap airport hotel at Haneda, Tokyo, for an overnight layover and falling totally in love with the room. It was minuscule, but it had more amenities than some luxury hotels I’ve stayed in. Pyjamas. Robes. Toothbrush. Eye mask. Face creams. Coffee machine. I couldn’t get over how thoughtful the details were and how inventive they had been in providing everything I needed in such a tiny space, in simple Japanese style.

When you arrive in Fiji and the staff have spent time decorating your bed with flowers spelling your name, it’s the same thing. It’s called hospitality. A lot of effort has gone into welcoming and pleasing the guest.

It doesn’t matter if a hotel has one or five stars, golden key concierges or a charming guy in a tropical shirt doing the check-in, the great hotel experience is not just about a room. It’s about the world the hotel creates and the key you’re given that lets you in.

Lee Tulloch, Travel columnist