28/03/2026
Stayed a night at the Kenilworth Hotel and I’m fairly certain I’ve come back as a slightly different person.
Let’s start with the room.
Minimal. Aggressively minimal.
Bed. Two side tables with lamps. A desk. And a power point that was clearly installed during a moment of absolute creative freedom. It’s there… just not where your brain expects it to be. Like it woke up one day and chose violence. At first you look at it like, “who approved this?” Then you use it. Then som**hing shifts inside you. Suddenly every other power point you’ve ever known feels... off. This one? This one understands you. I would now trust that power point with my financial decisions.
Room was clean. Not “yeah it’ll do” clean, proper, adult-level clean. Sheets and bedding were fresh, no weird smells, no crunchy surprises, no feeling like you’re sharing the space with a previous timeline. Slept like I’d been powered down and left on charge overnight.
Getting to the room involves heading up a set of stairs from the outdoor dining area to the upstairs landing. The stairs are steep enough to make you briefly consider your balance and past life choices, but not enough to actually cause problems. It’s less “danger” and more “remain humble.” You get to the top and feel like you’ve earned access.
Bathrooms are on the same level as the rooms, short walk away, and again, suspiciously clean. Like someone cares. No hesitation required. No internal debate. Just walk in, do your thing, leave with your dignity intact and your expectations quietly raised for other bathrooms in the future.
Staff were excellent. Friendly, relaxed, no weird energy. The kind of people who make everything feel easy without making you feel like you owe them a life story. Just good humans operating at a high level.
Food was genuinely good. Not “you’re starving so anything works”, but actually good. Ate like I’d just returned from a long and unnecessary expedition. No regrets. Prices were fair too. Not cheap enough to be concerning, not expensive enough to hurt your soul. Just right in that comfortable middle where you nod and accept your fate.
Parking was easy. Pulled in, parked, done. No reversing under pressure, no audience, no three-point turn turning into a twelve-point apology. Just success.
Overall:
It’s not fancy. It’s not trying to be.
It’s clean, functional, slightly unhinged in layout, but somehow it all works once you surrender to it.
Like the whole place was designed by someone who’s seen enough nonsense to strip everything back to what actually matters… and then placed one chaotic power point just to keep you on edge.
Would I stay again?
Yes.
Would I once again underestimate the stairs and momentarily become aware of my own mortality?
Also yes.
Would I defend that power point placement like it’s now part of my personality?
I would go to war for it.
