Every hotel review on this site ends in a score out of 100. Here is
exactly how it 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. So each stay is scored in five
categories, weighted the way actual trip satisfaction works, at least
for travelers like me and probably you: people who pay their own bill
and care about dinner.
The Room: 25 points. Bed quality, quiet, bathroom,
light, layout, maintenance, and whether the photos on the booking site
committed fraud. A four-figure rate with a view of an air handler loses
points here, publicly.
The Food: 25 points. Yes, a quarter of the score,
and yes, that is unusual. Breakfast execution and honest pricing, the
hotel’s restaurants and bar judged as restaurants and not as amenities,
and, this is the part nobody else scores, the quality of eating within
walking distance. A hotel is a base camp. Base camps in food deserts get
scored like base camps in food deserts.
The Service: 20 points. Not scripted charm.
Responsiveness, recovery when something goes wrong (something always
goes wrong; I ask for something specific on every stay partly to test
this), and whether the staff treats you like a guest or a
transaction.
The Location: 15 points. Walkability to things worth
walking to, noise trade-offs, and whether the neighborhood matches what
the hotel is charging for it.
The Math: 15 points. The is-it-worth-it category.
Rate paid versus alternatives nearby, what the extras actually cost
(breakfast, parking, the mysterious destination fee), and whether the
premium over the hotel down the street buys anything you can feel. A
wonderful hotel at an indefensible price scores like what it is: a
wonderful hotel you should not book.
How to read the numbers. 90+ means book it with
confidence, it delivered against its own price tag. 80-89 means very
good with specific caveats, which will be spelled out, not hidden. 70-79
means fine, and fine is a review, not an insult; some trips call for
fine. Below 70 means I will tell you what to book instead, because a
review that ends in “avoid” without an alternative is only half
useful.
One more thing, for the family properties. When a
hotel or resort sells itself to families, the review carries a separate
Kids Club Report alongside the 100-point score, because a five-star
resort can be spectacular for adults and quietly miserable for a
seven-year-old, and the star rating will never tell you which. The
Report scores the things parents actually decide on: how the connecting
rooms really connect, whether the kids club is supervised care with
trained staff or a room with an iPad, the staff-to-child ratio and
languages spoken, how far you can wander before you are out of range,
and the only metric that finally matters, whether my kids asked to go
back. It does not change the hotel’s out-of-100 score. It sits next to
it, for the readers who need it, and stays out of the way for the
readers who do not.
Two footnotes for the methodology nerds, whom I love. First, 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. Second, comped
stays get scored too, on this exact same rubric, with a plain “comped
stay” note sitting right next to the number so the score’s backstory
always travels with it. A free room changes the disclosure line, never
the math. If a hotel that hosted me earns a 74, it earns a 74, and I
would rather lose the free rooms than lose you. Receipts on request, and
occasionally without request.