Every review on this site ends in a score out of 100. Here is exactly
how the number is built, so you can disagree with me precisely instead
of vaguely.

I spent my career building rubrics for financial decisions, because
“trust me, it is a good fund” is not analysis. “Trust me, it is a good
hotel” is not analysis either. There are two scorecards, one for hotels
and resorts, one for rentals, because they sell different things and
pretending otherwise produces nonsense. Both use the same 100-point
currency, and The Location and The Math carry identical weights on both,
so a 91 villa and a 91 hotel are having roughly the same
conversation.

Hotels and Resorts

Category	Points	The question it answers
The Room	20	Did I sleep well in a room that matches its photos?
The Property	15	Is everything outside the room door worth leaving the room for?
The Food	25	Can I eat well here, and near here?
The Service	15	Was I a guest or a transaction, especially when something went wrong?
The Location	10	Is the neighborhood an asset or an apology?
The Math	15	Was it worth what it cost, against what else that money bought that week?

The Room: 20 points

The bed, judged in the morning, not the brochure. Sleep quality
(mattress, pillows, true blackout), quiet (soundproofing, hallway noise,
the street at 2am), the bathroom (water pressure, temperature stability,
counter space for two adults), light and layout, maintenance and wear,
and the gap between the booking photos and the thing the keycard opens.
On family stays this category also answers the question no hotel website
ever does: how the configuration actually sleeps four people, whether
the connecting door connects, and whether the sofa bed is furniture or a
punishment.

The Property: 15 points

Everything outside your room door that is not a plate of food. The
pool as operated, not as photographed (hours, towel logistics, the chair
situation at 9am), the spa and gym, the grounds and common spaces, the
design and upkeep, and the kids club where one is offered, run through
its own report. This category exists because a resort charging resort
prices is making a specific promise: that the property itself is the
destination. A $1,500 resort must beat a $500 city hotel here,
decisively, or The Math will come asking questions.

The Food: 25 points

A quarter of the score, and yes, that is unusual. It is also the
point of this website. Three parts, weighted by honesty rather than
convenience. First, breakfast: execution, and the price against what the
cafe two blocks away charges for better coffee. Second, the hotel’s
restaurants and bars judged as restaurants, meaning the only question is
whether I would eat there if I were not sleeping upstairs. Third, the
eating within walking distance, because a hotel is a base camp, and base
camps in food deserts get scored like base camps in food deserts. No
property earns top marks on room service alone.

The Service: 15 points

Not scripted charm. Responsiveness, recovery when something goes
wrong (something always goes wrong, and I ask for something specific on
every stay partly to test this), consistency between the check-in
performance and the day-three reality, and whether the staff treats you
like a guest or a folio number. Why only 15 points when luxury is mostly
service? Because service failures already bleed into every other
category (the unbussed pool chair is The Property, the 40-minute
breakfast is The Food), and scoring them twice would let one bad
department sink a score two ways. Fifteen points is the standalone
weight; the real exposure is larger, which is exactly how it works in
the building too.

The Location: 10 points

What surrounds the property, which no renovation can fix. Walkability
to things worth walking to, noise and safety trade-offs, transit when
walking fails, and whether the neighborhood matches what the hotel
charges for it. This is deliberately the smallest category, because The
Food already absorbs the most important half of any location (what is
edible near it), and because location is the one thing you can fully
research before booking. I score what you could not have known from a
map.

The Math: 15 points

The category the rest of the industry is structurally forbidden from
publishing. The rate I paid against the realistic alternatives that same
week, the fee audit (destination fees, resort fees, parking, the
breakfast delta), and the only question that consolidates a trip: did
the premium over the next-best option buy anything you could feel? A
wonderful hotel at an indefensible price scores like what it is: a
wonderful hotel you should not book.

Rentals (Airbnb, villas,
apartments)

A rental is not a hotel with the staff removed, and it does not cook
for you. Scoring an Airbnb on food would be like scoring a rental car on
its minibar, so the rental card drops The Food entirely. Every rental
review still comes with the full dining coverage (where we ate, the
market situation, what we cooked and whether the kitchen deserved it),
because that is what this website is. It just is not scored, because the
rental did not earn or lose it.

The rental card is built from what guests actually report caring
about: in survey data, cleanliness is both the top booking priority and
the top disappointment, followed by maintenance, misrepresented
listings, broken amenities, surprise fees, and unresponsive hosts. A
rental has more ways to lie to you than a hotel, so its card has one
more line.

Category	Points	The question it answers
The Clean	20	Did the $200 cleaning fee purchase any cleaning?
The Space	15	Does the whole place live as well as it lists?
The Kit	15	Does everything actually work, starting with the refrigerator?
The Host	15	Present when needed, invisible when not?
The Truth	10	How wide was the lens?
The Location	10	Is the neighborhood an asset or an apology?
The Math	15	After every fee and chore, did this beat the comparable hotel?

The Clean, 20 points, because the data is
unambiguous: cleanliness is the number one thing rental guests book for
and the number one thing that disappoints them. Scored at arrival, in
the corners, under no supervision, with the cleaning fee from the
invoice printed right next to the verdict. A $200 cleaning fee is a
promise. I check whether it was kept.

The Space, 15 points: the bedrooms and beds, the
living areas, the kitchen as a room, the outdoor space, and the layout
for your actual group. Rentals sell space; this is where they prove they
own any.

The Kit, 15 points: the working-order audit, in
honor of the 300,000 logged rental issues that say the refrigerator is
the most broken object in the industry. Wifi as tested, not as promised.
Air conditioning that conditions. Water pressure, laundry, a kitchen
equipped past the four-dull-knives minimum, the hot tub if one was
advertised, and the coffee situation, which tells you everything about a
host.

The Host, 15 points: the most complained-about
factor in rental reviews. Communication speed, check-in friction,
support when the boiler dies on night two, and whether the house manual
is hospitality or a 14-page chore list with feelings.

The Truth, 10 points: the deception meter. The gap
between the listing and the door key: photo forensics (wide-angle lenses
have a lot to answer for), promised amenities that exist, “sleeps eight”
claims audited against actual beds rather than optimistic couches. Where
a lie also breaks something else, it is scored once, here.

The Location, 10 points, same question as hotels:
walkability, noise, safety, and yes, what is edible nearby, reported in
the dining guide and felt here.

The Math, 15 points, with the rental-specific teeth:
the all-in comparison. After the cleaning fee, the service fee, and the
checkout chore list, did this beat the comparable hotel? That is the
most useful sentence a rental review can contain, and it is the one the
platforms would least like published.

How to read the numbers

90 and above: book it with confidence; it delivered against its own
price tag. 80 to 89: very good, with specific caveats that will be
spelled out, not hidden. 70 to 79: fine, and fine is a review, not an
insult; some trips call for fine. Below 70: I will tell you what to book
instead, because a review that ends in “avoid” without an alternative is
only half useful.

The fine print, kept large

Scores are anchored to price band: a $300 boutique and a $1,500
resort are both scored against what they charge, not against each other.
Comped stays are scored on this exact rubric, with a plain “comped stay”
note beside the number, because a free room changes the disclosure line
and never the math; if a hotel that hosted me earns a 74, it earns a 74.
Family-relevant properties carry the Kids Club Report alongside the
score, never inside it, so traveling parents get their answers and
everyone else can ignore them. Receipts on request, and occasionally
without request.