How gay is a hotel in London?

A few weeks ago, Favorite Mr. B called and said he’d found the following add on the internet:

Travel to London for the weekend and stay at cosy little gay hotel, charming, centrally located, gym, sauna, 3 stars, not recommended for families/children. Exclusively for gay clientele.

We were intrigued by what staying at a gay hotel would entail and started making various suggestions: Is it a place where a leather sling hangs in every room? Glory holes betweens rooms? Pink carpeted floors and flower arrangements? Special room-service: Food served in your room by half naked waiters in jockstraps?

Our expectations were high and we just couldn’t stretch our imagination further, plus we really wanted to go to London so without further ado, we decided to book the trip.

We departed on a cold Saturday morning to the British capital. After 3 hours only and some kind of tunnel, we were in another world. A tiny little ridiculous 3 hour trip and you arrive in the land of the ennemy, aka La Perfide Albion, Roast-beef land, Green-food heaven, FFRON (Formerly French Region of Normandy)…, the country that we love to hate but that we hate to love since we love it more than we hate it, although we hate to admit it.

Most of us frogs first got acquainted with the U.K through horrible school exchange programs when we were kids/teenagers. We all hated the country where the food sucked, where the people were ugly and pale, where all the girls were named ugly names like Sharon or Bernadette and all the boys played weird sports that we’d never heard about before. Furthermore, the “before the Chunnel years” ruined the reputation of La Perfide Albion forever in our hearts and especially stomachs. The never-ending 7 hour ferry trips from Le Havre to Portsmouth on a killer sea always gave a bitter taste of vomit as a first impression. Baked bean based breakfasts served upon arrival never really helped as an introduction to the country either.

However, most French people have a special relationship to the land on the other side of the Channel. It was indeed in England and during these culturally revolutionalizing study-trips that most of us French experienced freedom away from our parents, got drunk, high, laid and pregnant for the first time and in that order.

*Fond memories*

But back to our trip: Here we were then, back to London after so many years! What a fantastic experience it was to see this place again, as a grown-up (or kind of) and without a group of 150 vomitting French exchange students around. The city has changed so much and for the better only! The sun was shining, the grass was green, the orange and palm-trees swayed, oops, but I’m getting carried away here…

Anyway, since we could only check in at our adorable little hotel in the afternoon, we decided to start our intensive sightseeing program of the day, after which we would go and relax at our tiny, quaint and charming little gay hotel on the prairie.

Favorite Mr. B had never been to London so we did the regular tourist trap tour, never a disappointment though, (although Buckingham is actually duller and smaller than I remembered it, Lizzy should perhaps start a serious upgrading process or move house to something a bit more glam).

I have been to London several times but I never get tired of sightseeing there, visiting museums, taking corny pictures and having bangers and mash at local pubs.

After our tour, we were completely knackered and decided to go and relax at our cute, cosy and charming little gay hotel. We were very excited about that and already pictured ourselves receiving massages by Brad Pitt’s look-alikes and sipping a cocktail on a terrace by the sea listening to Cilla Black. (well, our imagination really got out of control, I must admit).

When we saw the hotel, we thought there must have been a mistake on the brochure, ‘cos what we had in front of us, was not cosy, quaint, cute and even less gay (whatever that means)!

Instead we were standing in front of this!

The place was predominantly populated by very ugly Spanish families and their very ugly kids! (not recommended for families, my ass!) And gosh these kids aren’t well-mannered at all! The corridors leading to the rooms were about a mile long each and looked like some dodgy student dorm corridors from the mid 70’s in F#&%-ing eastern Poland! It all looked like a huge factory with carpeted walls and anti-suicidal windows (annoying since you can barely open them to have a smoke).

I am nice but stupid and a little bit stubborn too so I had to find how on earth the travel agency could describe this place as being charming and gay. Perhaps they meant gay, as in happy, that this place was only recommended for happy people, ‘cos only happy people could stand staying over in such a dump. But that wasn’t it!

I looked everywhere but I didn’ find anything that ressembled pink floors, slings or peep-holes. But suddenly it all became clear when I saw this:

THE detail that surely made the travel agency think that this was a gay hotel. It is indeed slightly kitsch, cute and charming. We contemplated the beautiful picture for a while, ‘cos birds are nice, and mentally started writing our complaint letter to the travel agency.

“Dear travel agency, we were promised a room in a gay hotel and look at us, we ended up in Cherno-fucking-byl in Spain! We want a refund blah blah…”. and then it’s as if one of those little birds told us to think a bit.

How would we react if 2 straight guys were complaining about about the fact that there are too many gay people at their hotel? We’d certainly think: what a bunch of narrow-minded losers! Right?

So we stopped writing our mental complaint letter, went down to the store, bought fizzy vodka based drinks, Madonna’s latest record and started gayifying our room instead.

The Andrew Lappin mystery started when we returned. Read more below. It’s almost as if Rob7534 and Sirpelina were there with us!

So, what is a gay hotel? I mean apart from a hotel managed by gay people receiving lots of gay guests ? ‘cos I don’t know. Any experience you want to share?

We had a terrific time in London by the way. Next month: *Prague!*


7 Responses

  1. Good for you Micke, for not being one of those “bitter” queens complaining about the Not-so-Gay Hotel!

    But you have done The Gay’s a service, in your Expose. I can’t wait to see where you stay when you go to Prauge 🙂

  2. Yeah me too, SO THAT I CAN MAKE A MENTAL NOTE TO AVOID IT!! Are you using the “Fleapit Guide to Europe” or what?? ;)) The London one looks truly grisly!!

  3. What a dreadful place! I’m surprised you survived unscathed but I’m sure it’s convinced you that you aren’t straight.

    I’ve never stayed at a ‘gay hotel’ but know of two that are definitely very gay, having visited both:

    Cape Town:


    Incidentally, although both are called Amsterdam, there is no commercial link as far as I’m aware

  4. I especially enjoy how they have the pictures attached to the walls, were they really afraid you would steal those?

  5. Well, these birds were so nice that we were really tempted to steal them.
    Too bad forgot to take a pic of the shower curtain…

  6. Well, considering the tacky the pictures, you should definetely sue them for cruelty and emotional torture.

  7. Hello
    My name is Tanya and i am from India, why don’t you write something about London Hotels such as Courthouse, a popular 5 star hotel chain in London? It is present in London. Their website is at

    Let me know if you post something & keep up the amazing work!

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