Crash in a Cupboard: A Capsule Hotel Review

As a queer person from a deeply conservative area, I’m well used to existing within wood-based furniture for an extended period – but for once, it wasn’t someone else that forced me into a closet! On a recent visit down to London, I found myself spending the night in a unique type of hotel, one which trades the traditional ‘room with a bed’ for ‘room that is a bed… and not much more’. But believe it or not, these luxury coffins aren’t as bad as they may seem, and you might just find that their whimsical approach to (very) compact living is an experience you might want to give a go!

Arriving at the capsule hotel in the heart of London, I was optimistic for the very best. Having arrived in the city having spent three hours on a stuffy train on one of the hottest days of the heatwave, with the promise of air conditioning luring me in, I collected my key and headed up (& down) the winding staircases to the dormitory, a wide room that would become my home for the night. Greeting me inside was to be a narrow corridor with hatches adorning both walls, two high, on each side. Imagine a morgue but fitted with garage-style doors & you won’t be far off!

Locating my capsule, I slid up the door to reveal a snug single mattress, duvet and pillow in brilliant white (not akin to hospital linen at all…) surrounded by a wood-panelled interior on three sides, and a mirror at the end, currently reflecting my perspiring figure. Not enough room to walk inside, a head-first approach was needed, & I found myself climbing inside, surveying my surroundings, which turned out to be more spacious than I’d initially thought, with just enough room to sit cross-legged & not quite bang my head. But then…one more thing needed to be done.

Shuffling back to the ‘door’, I pulled down to close the shutter, and turned the bolt to secure it, a quick sense of claustrophobia set in…but quickly passed. It’s snug, for sure, yet strangely tranquil. Not silent by any means, but it’s the most private a hotel has ever seemed in that little compartment, with no distractions or views to the outside. And with a private mini air conditioning unit in each capsule, I was quickly cooling off. 

Stepping back out into the heat to enjoy the evening, & securing the flimsy plastic door with a military-grade padlock that set me back a further £8, I couldn’t help but wonder if my bag was to be safe in a room with 50 strangers, but as night drew in, everything was exactly as it was left. 

Washing up in the communal bathroom before re-securing myself into the capsule, I settled in for the night in pitch darkness, a luxury that only a truly windowless room can provide.

An early start beckoning, I was out and away as the temperature started to rise, joining the travellers heading to Heathrow with their suitcases, dropping my key and boldly striding out into the city. Refreshed, cool and strangely serene, I couldn’t help but feel as if this whole ‘capsule hotel’ trend was actually kind of brilliant – why give 50 travellers looking for simply a bed an entire room each, when all they really need is a small capsule for a fraction of the price? It may not be for everyone, but I might be a capsule convert - and when I die, it means I’ll be well equipped to be rested in a dark wooden box on the floor!

Rating: 4 stars – A great way to save a few quid, try a harmless internet trend and experience the life of a vampire

Written by, Sophie Layton (she/her)