On the outside, our Boston accommodations sport a unique architectural design. This 185-year-old brick roundhouse was originally a fuel depository, left an empty husk for decades until it was snatched up and overhauled by one of the major chains over a decade ago. The front doors are easy to miss, recessed into one wall with minimal ornamentation. If you ignore the signage, from a distance it resembles an odd factory or a super-villain’s designer warehouse.
On the inside, it’s as modern, elegant, and packed with extra flourishes as one would hope to find in a big-city hotel, though some big cities have disappointed us in that department. (Orlando, I’m looking in the direction of your refrigerator boxes cleverly disguised as “suites”.) Our room has more furniture and appliances than we expected, plus its own anteroom and plenty of space if we were the kind of weird family who exercised as a group. In terms of amenities and interior decoration, it’s easily in the top ten all-time overnight experiences.
Our surroundings tell a very different story, one that I’m not sure would entice the average vacationing suburbanite.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 