Paul Kalina finds Darlinghurst's Kirketon Hotel a boutique in all senses of the word.
French farmers and Italian vintners agree on specific "appellations" for cheeses, wines, chooks and more. Surely, then, it can't be too hard to find agreement on what the "boutique" in boutique hotel ought to mean.
This thought crosses my mind as we check into the Kirketon Hotel. After a disastrous call on an allegedly boutique hotel in Tasmania, which turned out to be a cramped Cape Cod attic filled with chintz, my licence to book a weekend away had been tentatively returned.
So far, so good. A large glass door on bustling Darlinghurst Road takes us straight into the discreet lobby. An armchair and magazine table, modern lamp, gleaming floor that directs the eye to the sleek low banquette of the in-house bar and adjoining restaurant immediately set the tone of this very appealing establishment.
An institution, actually. The 1930s building was a private hotel in what was then and for many decades one of Sydney's least salubrious and sought-after locations, unless you were a drug-dealer or miscreant.
With minimal alterations to the outside, the interior was modernised and converted into a 40-room boutique - that word, again - hotel in 1999 by interior design firm Burley Katon Halliday. Luke Mangan's restaurant Salt was once here; now it's the bright Kells Kitchen.
The Kirketon has been blessed by style snobs and featured in hip travel guides the world over. Justly so. Despite its chicness, the place is disarmingly low-key and unassuming, the service friendly and efficient.
It's also popular; three weeks out and the executive rooms are fully booked over a weekend early last month. We settle for an executive room for one night, a standard room the other.
The three-storey building has no lift. Rooms are reached by the sombrely lit stairwell. So that's one feature of a boutique hotel deserving of its name: mood lighting.
LA's famed Mondrian commissioned artist James Turrell to create light-based installations on every floor; though on a lesser scale, the effect works nicely here.
Our executive room is on the top floor at the front of the building. It's a bright, generously sized, minimalist room with three floor-to-ceiling windows that can be opened fully, a blessing for those with limited tolerance for air-conditioning.
The furniture is a compendium of modern design standards: an Eames chair next to a small round table; other chairs by, or inspired by, Finnish modernist Alvar Aalto tucked under an unobtrusive bedside table; a low sideboard. A king-size bed covered in a furry mohair blanket is pressed up against a huge mirror.
There's ample hanging space in the recessed wardrobe, where an ironing board, tea and coffee facilities and a stereo are tucked away. And the bar fridge? It's completely hidden away inside the sideboard.
The standard room where we spend our second night is on the first floor, also at the front of the building. It's noisier and smaller. The room is comfortable enough with the same quality of linens and towels but its modest size makes it functional rather than luxurious. The $45 difference makes the executive room a better proposition, by far.
In Kells Kitchen, even on a busy Sunday morning, the waiter is happy to deliver an excellent breakfast - Bircher muesli, thick-sliced brioche French toast and good coffee - straight up to the room.
Weekends Away are reviewed anonymously and paid for by Traveller.
VISITORS' BOOK
The Kirketon Hotel
Address: 229 Darlinghurst Road, Darlinghurst.
The verdict: The Kirketon is the place for modern-style snobs, groovers and those looking for discreet hotel comfort.
Price: Executive room rack rate $365 a night, standard room $220, which were discounted to $235 and $190 respectively when we booked online.
Bookings: Phone 1800 332 920, see http://www.kirketon.com.au.
How to get there: Two-minute walk to Kings Cross train station; car parking available on request at $25 a night.
Perfect for: A night on the town and for those who want an inner-city experience.
Wheelchair access: No.
