Medusa Hotel, Sydney
21.03.2007, 17:07
Arriving after nightfall, the Medusa's full-on pinkness was lost on us as we crossed its threshold. Behind the raspberry exterior, a bubble-gum pink lobby awaited, its tousled, textured walls extending an intriguing welcome.
Hotels
A standard-issue Sydney fashionista looked up, stony-faced, from the reception desk. But before he could get beyond first base, in swept a furious, sweat-dripping, fresh-from-the-gym gent who was in no mood to wait in line. "What the fuck is going on, here?!" he started up, to no one in particular. Cue much huffing, puffing, glaring and some speedy checking in.
Nevermind, stand-off resolved we were relieved to enter the vast realm which was to be our Sydney home for the next two nights. The "grand" room was huge – big enough to host an aerobics class should we so wish - with pleasingly minimalist furnishings and colours. Best of all, there was no more pink, just the odd accent of red on the back wall and the leather chaise-longue before the bed.
A cute table for two overlooking the courtyard beckoned, but hang on, that pool wouldn't fit a poodle in it … Ah, I see, it's a "reflection pool", so it's not for swimming then, just for looking good next to in the hope that you are cooled by the wayward spray.
Sleek, hide-all doors revealed ingeniously designed wardrobes, an entertainment system and a full kitchenette with PROPER COFFEE and a minibar. Overall, the look of the room was impressive, calm and tasteful, yet somehow a touch cold and devoid of femininity.
Next stop was the bathroom to inspect the much-promised Aveda goodies, and to-be-expected fluffy towels. Minimalism took on a whole new meaning in this compact though perfectly functional room. Toiletries were miniature and space was at a premium. Towels were also minimal: too thin and too thinly spread for my liking - but then I am a bit of a girl when it comes to all that.
Had I not been super-nosy, I may not have made my next awkward discovery: the minibar's special "treats for him" and "for her" gift selection. While visiting boys were offered condom lubricant; visiting girls could only look forward to a few spare tampons. A clearer picture of the hotel's regular clientele was beginning to form in my mind; one which I wasn't quite ready to share with my husband, currently stretching out on the chaise-longue.