Dirty Girl Things
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Number Ninety-Four
THE WORLD’S BEST HOTELS FOR DIRTY WEEKENDS
Need a naughty weekend away? Stephen Bleach (of the Times of London) reveals the world’s sauciest hotels.
The dirty weekend is on the danger list. According to a survey released last week, two-thirds of Britain’s couples haven’t had one in the past year: a quarter have never had one at all. The figures paint a graphic picture of a disturbing downward trend.
And we know why. We’re bored. Whenever a list of “sexy” hotels appears in the papers these days, it’s the same old bunch of celebrity hang-outs and slick designer haunts. It’s routine — and as any good sex therapist will tell you, routine is the deadly enemy of a good sex life. What we need is a little variety.
So, we’ve come up with a shamelessly eclectic selection of wicked weekends. There’s debauchery and romance, lusty log fires and priapic lighthouses, literary erotica and saucy cinema — something for every taste and occasion. Get out there and get frisky. The world’s a sinful place — and here’s where to get your share.
HOTEL PELIROCCO, Brighton
The traditional home of the dirty weekend has acquired a few stylish new hotels of late, but for sheer sauciness, none of them can match the Pelirocco. The most upfront room is Betty’s Boudoir, lined with pictures of the cult 1950s bondage starlet Betty Page and equipped with a pair of handcuffs attached to the leopard-print bed.
If that sounds a bit full-on, try the Bubble suite, with its circular bed ... and circular mirror on the ceiling above. When you’ve a spare moment, peruse the room-service menu: as well as traditional champagne and rose petals, it also lists various battery-operated appliances (batteries are included, thoughtfully) and a range of DVDs that would make even Betty blush.
COMBE HOUSE HOTEL, Gittisham, Devon
Lascivious gimmicks are all very well, but if your libido leans to the romantic rather than the raunchy, little can compare with a country-house hotel.
We choose Combe simply because it’s gorgeous — no spa, no pool, no designer names, just a perfectly intact Elizabethan manor in 3,500 secluded acres. It offers award-winning food and only 15 rooms: our favourites are the quirky Pitt, with its bed under a mullioned window; and the Willington, for the thought-provoking four-poster. Both are straight out of the pages of a racy period novel, with stunning views over a verdant valley where thoroughbreds roam free. So rip those bodices and get busy.
HOTEL DU VIN, Henley-on-Thames
Our readers love HdVs, telling us they’re stylish and good value, with a degree of character you wouldn’t expect in a chain. But you haven’t yet said they’re sexy. We can only assume that’s because not enough of you have stayed in the Dom Pérignon suite at Henley. The bed is a colossal 8ft x 8ft (and whatever anyone says, we know size matters), but that’s not the clincher — it’s the spectacular wet room that does it. Converted from the old brewing copper (the building originally produced Brakspear’s bitter), it has the biggest showers in the land: two heads, each of them an enormous 24in wide. Either is easily big enough for a couple to get clean and dirty simultaneously.
WEST USK LIGHTHOUSE, Newport, Gwent
If you’re a sucker for obvious phallic symbolism, you’ve got to love a lighthouse. “West Usk is not as tall as most,” concede the owners, “but it’s considerably bigger in circumference.” You can’t argue with that. It’s been voted one of the most romantic B&Bs in the country, but it has a sensual side, too — specifically in room 9, where the water bed will, if you use it enthusiastically, mimic the motion of the ocean outside. Granted, the hotel is a touch ramshackle, but that adds to the charm: it’s also friendly and quirky (there’s a Dalek in the hall, for some reason), and, if you snuggle down between the 2ft-thick walls while the first of the autumn storms rages outside, the perfect love nest.
BALINAKILL, Argyll
Real fires are sexy things. For every log you chuck on, another layer of clothing has to come off. Unfortunately, most hotels miss the point, confining their open fires to the public areas — not half so much fun. At Balinakill, though, 8 of the 11 rooms have their own real fires to romp by. “We’re surrounded by trees, so it seems a shame not to use them,” says the genial owner, Susan Macdiarmid. The place itself, an 1890s mansion with lovely views over to the island of Islay, is not as posh as Combe House, but it drips with oak panelling, polished wood floors and character. Hardy types can go fishing or deer-stalking, or walk the lovely coastline.
ABROAD
THE HOTEL, Lucerne
Being both Swiss and minimalist — an ardour-dampening double whammy — the Hotel sounds unpromising. But no: it’s genuinely friendly, genuinely stylish and sexy. With a touch of carnal inspiration, the French designer Jean Nouvel has printed film stills from arty erotic classics on the bedroom ceilings: Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris, Almodovar’s Matador and Buñuel’s That Obscure Object of Desire.
DAR MOUASSINE, Marrakesh
If exotic means erotic, you can’t beat Marrakesh. It’s an Arabian Nights fantasy — rich, strange and just a 3-hour flight away: leave early afternoon and you’ll be there in time to watch the sunset turn the city walls blood-red from your rooftop terrace. There are dozens of riads (traditional lodgings in the old city) to choose from, and most are fabulous. We pick this one simply because it’s intimate (six rooms) and reasonably priced, but still luxurious, with four-posters, painted ceilings, thick walls and a satisfying feeling of antiquity: the subtlest of seductions.
THE LIBRARY HOTEL, New York
A library? Yawn. But this book-stuffed boutique hotel on Madison Avenue isn’t all worthiness and hush. The number 800.001 might mean little to most of us, but librarians will already have twigged: under the Dewey classification system, that’s Erotic Literature, and room 800.001 is packed full of it. Casanova’s autobiography, the Kama Sutra and a slew of other sensual classics line the walls, with erotic prints in between.
THE PALMS, Las Vegas
Sin City has come over all family-friendly of late. Don’t be fooled: Vegas is still America’s prime den of iniquity. Strip shows, swingers’ clubs — not for nothing does the US porn industry hold its version of the Oscars here. There are trashy flophouses aplenty, but for wickedness with a little style, the Palms is the place.
It has the coolest nightclub, in Rain, and concerts at the Skin pool area, while the Ghost Bar overlooks the city, but for your own private party, splash the cash and get a Playpen on the 28th floor. They’re set up like pole-dancing clubs — proper dancefloor, disco lights, Bose sound system, mirrored ceilings — and the pole itself is (conveniently) right by the king-size bed. Sleazy? Only if you do it right.
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Sincerely.
Eve and JW3 and Mélisande
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