Our recent stay at Dublin's Dawson Hotel is a reminder that running a boutique hotel is a lot harder than it seems. True, the description brings with it a desirable customer base willing to pay a premium for their experience. But they also have high expectations, and are probably benchmarking you against some formidable competition. While the Dawson had a fantastic location and looked great, its beauty was only skin deep. It has a long way to go to get near boutique hotels I've reviewed here like South Africa's Birkenhead House Savannah's Brice.
Things started well. It would be hard to better the Dawson's location, on a gracious street full of upscale shops and restaurants that links Trinity College to St. Stephen's Green. Directly across the street is the gracious Georgian facade of the Lord Mayor's residence, Mansion House. After passing under a glass and wrought-iron canopy most likely added by the Victorians, you enter a classic Georgian entry hall and proceed up broad, elegant stairs to the lobby on the first floor. They certainly have the boutique look down, with oversized gold-gilt Georgian and Baroque furniture and luxe fabrics mixed with modern accessories and lighting, and all of the calming neutral wall colours currently in vogue.We'd upgraded to a junior suite, primarily because we'd booked at short notice and rooms in the city were limited. It was also clear that people in search of peace and quiet should avoid the cheaper rooms facing onto the main street; the Dawson described them as "vibrant", especially on weekends. (Translation: the hotel's bar is just one in a line of trendy establishments that pour loud groups of merry-makers onto the pavements at night. During the day, construction noise and a bus stop for several of the city's hop-on-hop-off tours keep things lively.) Thus the anticipation of almost £200 a night hitting our debit card raised expectations, as well.
The Ares Suite was indeed beautiful, with an enormous bed under a canopy, a fanciful footstool and sofa, a capsule-style coffee maker and a bathroom the size of a double bedroom with a striking free-standing tub. The bed and pillows were comfortable, the linens of top quality, and the room was blessedly quiet. But little things niggled. There was no shaver point in the bathroom, leaving us without the ability to charge our toothbrush. There was an unprepared hole in the wall (perhaps power was on the way?) More frustrating, the bathroom only had dusky mood lighting. Great for a romantic soak, but frustrating for more prosaic business. Surely a luxury boutique could offer two-stage lighting? I appreciated the fridge in the room, but was puzzled to find it hadn't been plugged in (hope nobody arrives with stuff they need to keep cold) and surprised to find it completely empty. A true boutique usually stocks your rooms with a few goodies.
Service was adequate, but lacked the personal interest and the sense of going above and beyond I associate with boutiques. This might have been, in part, because the lobby is off to the side of the main stair. Once you check in, you have no reason to pass through. This means there's little contact with staff. When we did interact, it was efficient but perfunctory. We didn't encounter anyone with a local accent; though it may be an unfair assumption, the whole staff seemed to be from somewhere else, adding to a more corporate, impersonal feel.
Our biggest issue, however, was breakfast. I hadn't confirmed that it was included in the rate, making an assumption that at that price ... and in a country that makes a big deal of its breakfast ... the meal would be part of the experience. And I sense that, under normal circumstances, it is. But we arrived to a notice that the kitchen had been closed due to "unavoidable circumstances". Probably just unfortunate wording, but I immediately imagined a health inspection shut down. The offered a continental breakfast instead. This was a disaster.
Breakfast took place in a bar to the side of the main entrance, primarily free of staff and curiously cluttered with boxes, as if throwing people into the room for breakfast was an afterthought. The breakfast spread ... inelegantly scattered on a side table ... comprised boxed cereal, some fruit, yogurt containers and a stack of sale scones. There was a vat of boiling water and tea bags, but NO COFFEE. And no staff to handle any requests. Climbing upstairs to the lobby, we discovered they would bring us cups from the Nespresso machine there.
I understand kitchen issues. But if you're going to put yourself out there as a luxury boutique hotel, you can do a better job on the continental breakfast. Have a staff member in the room to take care of people. Decant your cereals into glass jars. Lay on some platters of sliced meats and cheeses. Offer a varieties of pastries. Fresh ones. And, for heavens' sake, coffee. Ideally cafetieres or pots for each table so people can linger over their breakfast without having to request the next cup. Lacking all of these things, we sought breakfast elsewhere two of our three mornings.
I wouldn't completely dismiss the Dawson. Its location is extraordinary and the bed was wonderfully comfortable. But all those little issues frustrate when you're presented with a sizeable bill on checkout. Its a hotel that could be great but, right now, it's not fully earning its "boutique" appellation.
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