Hotels With Soul / United States, Canada & Caribbean

17 remarkable hotels.The people and choices that make a place worth returning to.

A cedar carver’s tool. A dinner host. A family’s mountain plans, found decades later. Some of the best hotel stories begin with the people who kept caring.

A room can give you a new view. A thoughtful hotel can change what you notice in it.

Across these seventeen places, I kept finding people who had made a decision worth understanding: preserve an eccentric building, host a table of strangers, keep a mountain refuge open, give a local artist a meaningful commission. Their work makes the beauty of a place easier to enter and more rewarding to know.

These are the stories that draw me to hotels. They leave me thinking about the welcome long after the room description has faded.

01 / City life

The city, on your terms

Four addresses with strong personalities and very different ideas about how much of the city to let in.

01 / Beverly Hills, California

The Beverly Hills Hotel

Before Beverly Hills became shorthand for a particular kind of life, Margaret Anderson opened a hotel there. The year was 1912. The city had yet to incorporate. People coming to look at property needed somewhere to stay, which gives this supposedly untouchable institution a wonderfully practical beginning: someone needed a room.

Its visual identity accumulated over time. The pink arrived in 1948. Paul R. Williams helped shape the Crescent Wing and familiar public spaces. The banana leaves belong to Martinique, the C.W. Stockwell pattern created in 1942 and brought into the hotel later that decade by designer Don Loper. What now looks inevitable was a succession of choices, made by different people, that happened to belong together.

That is an unusually useful history for anyone responsible for an established business. Recognition does not require every detail to date from the beginning. It requires later decisions to understand the place well enough to add something people will eventually think has always been there. Williams's contribution deserves to sit beside the wallpaper in that story. Architecture, circulation and the rooms in which people meet do as much to establish a character as the motif on the wall.

The hotel's own account of its people is particularly endearing. It names Margarita Guerra in in-room dining, Agustin Martinez in the kitchen and Marina Pacheco in the laundry. These are the kinds of names that celebrity histories tend to lose. Yet a salad arriving as expected, a carefully handled garment and a familiar person at the door are how an institution becomes somebody's favorite hotel.

The famous guests give the Beverly Hills Hotel an extraordinary archive. Margarita, Agustin, Marina and their colleagues give a guest a reason to return. A building this recognizable could easily make arriving feel like an entrance. The warmer achievement is to make it feel like being expected.

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02 / Upper East Side, New York

The Lowell

A wood-burning fireplace is an extravagant thing to keep in a New York hotel. It requires space, maintenance and the willingness to accommodate something less convenient than a switch. At The Lowell, fireplaces in selected accommodations belong to a larger residential idea: terraces, kitchens and rooms that allow a guest to establish a small domestic life above the city.

The hotel opened in 1927 on East 63rd Street, between Park and Madison. Its address matters to the experience. New York remains available at close range, while the building offers the quieter scale of an Upper East Side residence. A room here can be a place to settle into, with enough particularity to remember where the chair stood and which corner you preferred in the evening.

The Chartouni family's stewardship has allowed that character to keep developing. In 2026, ahead of the hotel's centennial, refreshed rooms and suites brought together co-owner and design director Dina DeLuca Chartouni and interior designer Michael S. Smith. It is a revealing pairing of roles. Someone who knows the hotel from within works with someone who can give its next chapter a considered visual language.

That kind of renewal takes judgment. A residential hotel risks losing its ease when everything looks newly arranged for inspection. The value is in giving guests beautiful things they can actually live among, and in leaving enough breathing room for an open book, a jacket or breakfast that takes longer than planned. The Lowell's fireplaces and terraces are unusually convincing expressions of that freedom because they change what a person can do with a room. There is a quiet kindness in recognizing that even a wonderful city can ask a great deal of its visitors. Somewhere to recover, gather oneself and begin again has real value. The Lowell makes that private part of a New York visit feel worthy of care.

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03 / Coconut Grove, Miami

Mayfair House Hotel & Garden

Some buildings arrive with enough personality to make a renovation a test of the owner's confidence. Kenneth Treister's Mayfair, which opened in 1985, is one of them. Its courtyards, foliage and sculptural exuberance suit Coconut Grove's appetite for a little eccentricity. The sensible starting point was to take that personality seriously.

For the hotel's 2022 return, GOODRICH drew on Treister's architecture, the Grove's ecology, its artistic history and the feeling of a guesthouse with a charismatic host. That last idea makes sense of the others. A good host can put unlikely things together because the welcome gives them a common purpose. The rooms and public spaces can have strong opinions without making guests feel they must perform a matching personality.

The art adds real voices to the building. Miami-born Michele Oka Doner created a work for the lobby. Angelika Wallace-Whitfield's rooftop mural draws on Bahamian folk art. Jane Richardson-Mack works in verre églomisé, building images through a demanding process of drawing and layering on glass. The hotel identifies these artists and explains their practices, allowing an interested guest to follow a piece beyond its decorative role.

I like that willingness to give credit. A place becomes more interesting when the people behind it remain visible. A mural can lead to an artist, an artist to a cultural tradition, and a tradition to a better understanding of the neighborhood or region. The hotel becomes an introduction to people whose work continues elsewhere.

Mayfair's appeal also rests on an act of preservation that is easy to underestimate: somebody allowed an unusual building to remain unusual. There is ample discipline involved in making all that color, planting and detail work as hospitality. Its warmth comes from putting the discipline in service of a lively, unmistakable place. Coconut Grove has room for a hotel with a little flourish.

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04 / Midtown Manhattan, New York

Aman New York

The Crown Building has already held several versions of New York's ambition. Warren & Wetmore designed it for August Heckscher in 1921. In 1929, it became the first home of the Museum of Modern Art. Its later transformation into Aman New York, which opened in 2022, added another use to an address that had been significant for a century.

Jean-Michel Gathy of Denniston shaped the hotel within that inherited structure. The project brings Aman's preference for space and composure to Fifth Avenue, where the surrounding city is famously uninterested in slowing down. That makes the hotel's central proposition more specific than escape. Guests can decide how much of New York reaches them at a given moment.

The contrast is built into the address. A visitor can want the museums, shops and movement of Midtown and still want to eat or rest without absorbing its entire pace. Giving someone that choice is a sophisticated form of hospitality. It recognizes that enthusiasm for a city and the need for privacy can coexist in the same person, sometimes within the same hour.

The building's earlier life as MoMA's first home offers a lovely perspective on the conversion. Places we later regard as permanent institutions often begin in borrowed or adapted rooms. A famous address keeps its relevance partly by accommodating new ways of gathering, working and spending time. Here, the old exterior remains a participant in the city while the interior serves a different rhythm.

Quiet in this building has to be planned, built and maintained. A guest can spend the morning in the city, come back to recover and go out again with a little more appetite for it. At this address, the ability to choose one's pace is a substantial thing to offer.

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02 / Continuity

A place to come back to

An island inn, a working estate and an Adirondack table. Continuity depends on people doing the work.

05 / Boca Grande, Florida

The Gasparilla Inn & Club

A hotel can look timeless while depending on a great many timely decisions. The Gasparilla Inn's history makes that work unusually visible. Its predecessor, the Hotel Boca Grande, opened in 1911. Expansion and the Gasparilla name followed in 1913. The two dates describe different moments in the same story, a useful reminder that even an institution has a period of figuring itself out.

Rail brought early guests to the island. The causeway, completed in 1958, changed how they arrived. Bayard Sharp joined the ownership in 1961 and became sole owner in 1964. The hotel's own history records his investment in staff dormitories and kitchen facilities in 1976, details that might easily disappear beneath the more picturesque account of porches and island leisure.

Those are precisely the details I find admirable. A dining room's continuity depends on a kitchen that can keep serving it. A tradition of attentive hospitality depends on people having somewhere to live. The visible charm of an old hotel has a practical foundation, and the people willing to fund that foundation are doing a substantial part of the preserving.

Sharp later established a trust intended to protect the hotel's future. The Farish family's continuing ownership connects that long view to the present. The effect is a place where familiar rituals can survive changes in travel, infrastructure and guest expectations. Continuity is an active responsibility, with decisions behind it that a returning family may never need to think about.

Boca Grande's setting gives the inn room for a particular kind of holiday: beach, golf, meals and time that need not be filled aggressively. Its seasonal calendar remains part of its character, so travel dates deserve a direct check. The larger pleasure is the possibility of returning to recognizable rhythms. Someone has to work quite hard for a place to feel reassuringly easy.

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06 / Asheville, North Carolina

The Inn on Biltmore Estate

The Inn on Biltmore Estate opened in 2001. Biltmore House opened in 1895. Keeping those dates distinct makes the inn's role more interesting: this is a newer part of a much older effort to keep an extraordinary estate alive.

George Vanderbilt's house required years of work by architects, artisans and builders. Its survival requires a different kind of work, carried out over generations. Biltmore remains a family-owned business with an explicit preservation mission. Admission, hospitality, dining, wine and other activities help support the care of the estate, including its own conservation work.

An overnight stay changes the relationship between visitor and place. A day trip naturally gravitates toward the famous house and the question of what can be seen before leaving. Staying on the estate makes room for a slower sequence: a garden, a walk, another meal, a return to something that caught your attention. The inn gives that larger experience somewhere to begin and end.

There is a generous idea in the business model. An inherited landmark needs enough present-day usefulness to sustain its future. William A.V. Cecil Sr.'s work toward a self-supporting estate helped establish the conditions for later generations to continue that care. The inn participates in that ongoing effort by offering something visitors want now, within a place that carries obligations far beyond a single night's stay.

A guest may remember breakfast or a walk through the gardens more readily than the estate's financial model. That is as it should be. The useful achievement is that an enjoyable stay and the expensive work of caring for an old place can support one another. Gardeners and conservators continue their work, and the visitor has a reason to come back and see what another season brings.

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07 / Upper Saranac Lake, New York

The Point

At The Point, someone from the management team hosts dinner. It is a small detail with a considerable effect on the idea of communal dining. Guests are being welcomed into an evening by a person who takes responsibility for it.

The setting began as Camp Wonundra, built for William Avery Rockefeller II in 1929. Its Adirondack Great Camp architecture gives wood, stone and the lake a central role. The formality of dinner sits within that outdoor life, with black tie on Wednesday and Saturday evenings and a shared table in the Great Hall. A day on the water and an evening dressed for dinner can belong to the same holiday.

The hotel's current description makes the choreography clear. Cocktail hour gathers guests in different locations. Reservations staff ask about dietary needs before arrival. Dinner has a host, a considered menu and room for conversation. These arrangements do a useful social job: they reduce the awkwardness of entering a room of people one has not met.

It takes confidence to retain such a particular custom. Formal dress asks guests to make an effort, and the welcome has to justify that effort. At its best, the ritual gives an evening a sense of occasion while the host makes participation feel comfortable. The combination is more interesting than formality by itself. A beautiful table becomes memorable because somebody helps the people around it enjoy one another.

The Point is especially appealing for travelers who enjoy a hosted house-party atmosphere. Its customs make the invitation clear, and its staff take responsibility for helping the evening along. A jacket and tie are easy enough to specify. Making a stranger feel comfortable at the table takes a person.

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03 / Wide horizons

Room for a larger world

Rock, woodland, glacier and ocean. These hotels give attention somewhere extraordinary to go.

08 / Canyon Point, Utah

Amangiri

The pool at Amangiri bends around a rock. That single decision explains a surprising amount about the place. The architecture accepts an existing form as something worth accommodating, then makes the encounter between building and land part of the experience.

The project brought together architects Marwan Al-Sayed, Wendell Burnette and Rick Joy, working in the desert landscape of southern Utah. Their buildings use low forms, deep openings and mineral colors to establish a close relationship with the surrounding terrain. The setting supplies enormous visual drama. The design gives a guest places from which to notice it.

There is considerable effort behind that apparent simplicity. A wall determines what is visible and what remains out of sight. A shaded opening changes the transition between indoors and the desert. The pool's edge turns a geological presence into something a guest can sit beside. Each choice concerns the scale of a human body within a landscape that offers very little reassurance about human importance.

That is the part I find compelling. Amangiri provides comfort without needing the desert to become domesticated scenery. The architecture can offer shelter, water and a legible path through a small part of the land while allowing the larger view to retain its distance. A guest has somewhere to belong for a while, and still has reason to look outward.

The collaboration also deserves attention. Three architects with distinct practices had to create a coherent place together. The finished work carries the discipline of that shared attention. Its strongest gesture is often the way it holds back, leaving enough space for light and rock to occupy the mind. For a hotel whose appearance is so widely recognized, that is a particularly graceful ambition: to help people see beyond the hotel.

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09 / Meadows of Dan, Virginia

The Lodge at Primland

Primland has an observatory. Among the golf, trails and woodland accommodations on its Blue Ridge estate, that is the detail that most readily stays with me. Someone decided that looking up deserved a permanent place in the experience.

The property grew from Didier Primat's interest in this part of Virginia and is now The Lodge at Primland, Auberge Collection. Its large mountain setting allows different kinds of days, from active exploration to time spent with a much smaller field of view. The observatory takes advantage of the darkness that makes this location valuable after the landscape itself has largely disappeared from sight.

A telescope is an instrument, though, and instruments require care. Sea West Observatories, which worked on the facility, records later maintenance to the dome and its moving parts. Seals, lubrication and weatherproofing are humble companions to a night of astronomy. Their presence in the story is reassuring. Wonder has somebody looking after the equipment.

That practical commitment gives the experience weight. A hotel can mention a beautiful night sky almost anywhere beyond a city. Building a place to study it, maintaining that place and offering guided stargazing create a much more thoughtful invitation. Guests have a way to move from vague admiration to a closer look, with help understanding what they are seeing. Weather still has the final say.

Primland's observatory also expands what a mountain holiday can contain. The daytime landscape becomes the foreground to something much larger. There is room for curiosity that asks very little of a guest beyond patience and a willingness to pay attention. I admire hospitality that makes that kind of curiosity easy. A memorable evening need not be loud, elaborate or even primarily about the hotel hosting it.

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10 / Ruth Glacier, Alaska Range

Sheldon Chalet

In 1966, Don and Roberta Sheldon established the Mountain House on a rocky outcrop above Alaska's Ruth Glacier. Don, a pioneering pilot, flew in the materials. The place was small, remote and dependent on the knowledge of people who understood the mountains and the air around them.

Don died in 1975. Roberta kept the Mountain House available while raising their family. After her death in 2014, Kate and Robert Sheldon inherited the property. As they developed the idea for a new chalet, they discovered their father's plans from 1968. The project that became Sheldon Chalet therefore carried both a new generation's effort and an earlier, unfinished intention. It opened in 2018.

That history gives the building a human scale before its remarkable geography takes over.

At roughly 6,000 feet in the Don Sheldon Amphitheater, the chalet sits on a private inholding surrounded by the Alaska Range. Helicopter access is part of the journey. The original Mountain House remains a distinct place with its own history, rather than disappearing into the newer accommodation's story.

Hospitality here depends on a chain of expertise that begins well before a guest reaches a room. Pilots, guides and the people preparing a stay have to work with weather, supplies and a landscape whose conditions cannot be negotiated away. Remoteness makes the competence of other people especially tangible. The comfort has been thought through and brought here by someone.

Roberta's part in that continuity deserves particular attention. Keeping a modest mountain refuge going across decades helped preserve the possibility of what came later. The chalet's drama is immediate, but the patience behind it is equally moving. A family kept caring for a place long enough for an old set of plans to find a new future. That is a very different sort of grandeur, and one worth remembering alongside the view.

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11 / Tofino, British Columbia

Wickaninnish Inn

Henry Nolla's adze is kept in a gallery at the Wickaninnish Inn.

From time to time, it comes out to work on the wood again. I can think of few better details for a hotel that wants its history to remain alive.

Nolla helped build the McDiarmid family's cabin near Chesterman Beach and later shaped important parts of the inn: cedar posts and beams, fireplace mantels and the yellow-cedar entrance doors. After his death in 2004, the carving shed continued to be a working place for other artists. His tool can be both an object of memory and a means of maintaining what he made.

The inn opened in 1996, growing from Howard and Lynn McDiarmid's connection to this coast and their son Charles's work in hospitality. Its relationship with weather became a defining idea. Winter storms, usually treated as an obstacle to a seaside holiday, gave guests a reason to come to Tofino when the Pacific was at its most forceful. The building offered a protected vantage point from which to pay attention.

That requires a lovely reversal of expectation. A hotel can help people appreciate the place as it is during a particular season, including its intensity. The welcome, the shelter and the view make weather part of the reason for being there. The coast retains its own character, and the guest gains a way to spend time with it.

Nolla's woodwork brings that large coastal story back to the hand. A doorway is something a guest passes through; a mantel is close enough to study. The maker's decisions give the building intimacy within a powerful setting. Knowing that his tool still helps care for those surfaces adds another layer of affection. Preservation here can be an action performed by a living person, with a familiar weight in the hand.

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04 / Island life

The island has a story

Across Hawaiʻi, The Bahamas and the Caribbean, a beautiful setting becomes richer when its people and history remain in view.

12 / Princeville, Kauaʻi, Hawaiʻi

1 Hotel Hanalei Bay

At 1 Kitchen, Hawaiian fiber artist Marques Marzan worked with materials associated with building shelter: coconut fibers, pandanus leaves, ti leaves and pili grass. The commission at 1 Hotel Hanalei Bay brings that knowledge into a contemporary hotel, where a guest might first encounter it as art and then become curious about how it was made.

Marzan's explanation of the work includes the labor of gathering and preparing materials, and the responsibility to collect them in ways that leave resources for future generations. That makes the piece especially meaningful in a setting where the view can easily command all the attention. There is knowledge here that a view alone cannot communicate.

The hotel opened in 2023 following the transformation of an existing property. Interior designer Nicole Hollis describes opening up the arrival spaces, orienting furniture toward the bay and working with artists whose practices bring further specificity to the interiors. Landscape architects PBR HAWAII identify rain gardens, green roofs, planting and water-management measures among their contributions. These are concrete design choices that can be examined on their own merits.

The most persuasive part of the result is the relationship between the expansive setting and the smaller things made for the building. A woven surface invites close attention. A garden changes the route through an arrival space. A room oriented toward Hanalei Bay gives the landscape a continuing presence rather than saving it for a single viewpoint.

I admire the inclusion of artists as people with knowledge to contribute. Crediting their work gives visitors a path toward learning more, and it allows contemporary Hawaiian practice to appear as something active and evolving. The hotel is at its most interesting when the pleasure of being in a beautiful place is accompanied by a growing awareness of the people who know that place, its materials and its traditions in much greater depth.

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13 / Harbour Island, The Bahamas

Coral Sands Inn & Cottages

Brett and Sharon King opened Coral Sands in 1968. Brett's earlier life as an actor makes a pleasing prelude to a hotel with such a strong visual personality, but the more lasting story is the place the couple created together on Harbour Island.

A recent renewal under AJ Capital brought their history back into the rooms through archival photographs and references to the property's earlier life. Designer Krissy Melendez worked with color, pattern and vintage elements to give the hotel a fresh expression. The founders' presence in that process matters. It gives the new work a particular history to respond to, rather than an abstract notion of what an island hotel ought to look like.

Harbour Island's pink sand is already an extraordinary visual event. Coral Sands has enough confidence to bring its own color to the occasion. Its cottages add another dimension: a more independent, house-like way of staying within the hotel. A guest can be part of the shared life around dining and the beach, then return to a place with a stronger sense of being one's own for a while.

There is an appealing friendliness in this kind of design. Pattern and color can make a room feel inhabited by a point of view. They reward a second look, offer little discoveries and allow a holiday to feel different from daily life without becoming ceremonious. The pleasure is immediate, which is perfectly respectable. A place can be thoughtful and still be fun to walk into.

The photographs of Brett and Sharon give that cheerful present a past. Guests can enjoy the color immediately and discover the couple later, in the course of an otherwise unhurried day. There is a nice hospitality to that, too: history left where a curious person can find it, with no requirement to study before enjoying the beach.

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14 / Antigua

Hermitage Bay

When Hermitage Bay announced its 2024 renovation, the account included a particularly welcome detail: the new work had been developed with longtime general manager Rachel Browne. A hotel contains years of knowledge in its people. Bringing that knowledge into a renovation gives the building a better chance of remaining itself.

The project followed Daniel Shamoon's acquisition and brought changes to the villas, gardens and shared spaces. Hermitage Bay's essential advantage remains geographical: a tucked-away Antiguan bay, with accommodations placed between the beach and the hillside. Privacy comes partly from that arrangement, allowing the landscape to do some of the work that other hotels ask walls and corridors to perform.

The garden supplies another connection between setting and hospitality. The hotel describes growing fruit, vegetables and herbs and offering visits with its gardeners. A guest who takes that invitation can encounter the place through the knowledge of someone who tends it. The garden becomes more than an attractive route between a room and a meal; it has seasons, labor and people who understand what grows well there.

Rachel Browne's involvement is a good reason to pay attention to this renewal. A general manager knows things a drawing cannot show: the habits of returning guests, the routes staff take through a working day, the small arrangements that make service easier. That knowledge deserves a place at the table when a hotel decides what to change.

For planning, the details deserve a close look. Private pools belong to specified villa categories, and the hotel currently offers both bed-and-breakfast and all-inclusive arrangements. Its seasonal reopening is scheduled for October 12, 2026. Those distinctions help travelers choose the experience they actually want. The reason to care about Hermitage Bay goes deeper: a lovely setting is being looked after by people whose familiarity with it has value.

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15 / Toiny, St Barthélemy

Hotel Le Toiny

At Le Toiny, the room extends into a private terrace and pool. Each of the hotel's 22 suites has that arrangement, giving the day somewhere to unfold before a guest makes any further plans. Breakfast, reading and an hour in the water can all happen within the same small territory.

The hotel opened in 1992 on St Barthélemy's southeastern side. Charlie and Mandie Vere Nicoll acquired it in 2015 and continued its development. The scale remains important to the idea: individual suites set into the landscape, with enough independence for a stay to feel partly like borrowing a house by the bay.

In a 2026 interview, Charlie described the couple's habit of moving from table to table during long lunches at the beach club, talking with guests. That is a revealing detail in a hotel built around privacy. Having a place to withdraw does not diminish the pleasure of being personally welcomed when one comes out again. The host has to be available without becoming an obligation.

The beach club offers a different rhythm and welcomes visitors as well as hotel guests. It should not be mistaken for an exclusively private beach. Its dining and social life give Le Toiny a livelier dimension alongside the privacy of the suites. That range is part of the appeal: retreat and company can sit within reach of one another, with the guest deciding how much of each belongs in the holiday.

The combination makes sense of the owners' enthusiasm for one more hotel project after their years at Isle de France. There is still room here for the part of the job that draws people into hospitality in the first place: setting a table, seeing someone settle in, finding out how their day has been. A pool and terrace give guests independence. The people moving between the lunch tables give them a reason to feel at home.

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16 / Kaʻūpūlehu, Hawaiʻi Island

Kona Village, A Rosewood Resort

Kona Village's return in 2023 carried a great deal of affection. The resort had welcomed guests since 1965 before tsunami damage forced its closure in 2011. Twelve years is long enough for a familiar holiday place to become something people wonder if they will ever see again.

The reopening restored recognizable parts of that identity, including the individual hale and the Shipwreck Bar's connection to the founders' schooner, New Moon. Rosewood became the operator, with Kennedy Wilson as developer and ground lessee. Those roles sit within a much longer relationship to the land: the resort occupies ʻĀina Pauahi at Kaʻūpūlehu, on land stewarded by Kamehameha Schools.

Kamehameha Schools' account of the rebuilding describes the involvement of lineal descendants and cultural stakeholders in caring for the site. At the dedication ceremony, the passing of stone and coral from Kahuwai Bay expressed the responsibility being entrusted to its new stewards. That history enlarges the meaning of the reopening. The memories of returning hotel guests are one part of a place whose significance reaches much further back.

A resort can hold several kinds of memory at once. A family may remember a particular path to the water. Staff may remember the daily routines of an earlier hotel. Descendants and cultural practitioners carry relationships to land that require their own attention and respect. The work of rebuilding becomes more thoughtful when those histories have people present to speak for them.

What I admire about this chapter of Kona Village is the opportunity it creates for a fuller understanding of return. Familiar forms can welcome longtime guests while a cultural center, local work and the account of the land invite a closer look. The affection that brought people back can become curiosity about the place they have returned to. That is a generous future for a resort with so much remembered happiness behind it.

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17 / St Jean Bay, St Barthélemy

Eden Rock St Barths

Eden Rock began with Rémy de Haenen in 1953. Its position on a rocky promontory in St Jean Bay gave it an identity that no later branding exercise needed to invent. The hotel could participate in the life of the bay while remaining immediately recognizable within it.

David and Jane Matthews acquired the property in 1995. Oetker's management relationship began in 2014. Hurricane Irma brought severe damage in 2017, followed by rebuilding and a reopening in 2019. The sequence matters because the hotel's apparent continuity includes a period when continuity required an enormous amount of work.

Its character has remained vivid. Eden Rock belongs to the more sociable side of an island holiday, with the beach, dining and the life around St Jean close at hand. Some hotels make withdrawal their central pleasure. Here, the attraction includes feeling part of the scene, with a memorable building giving that scene a center of gravity.

That is a worthwhile form of hospitality. People travel with different hopes for how they will feel among others. A holiday can offer relief through quiet, or it can bring the pleasure of dressing for dinner, recognizing a face and being somewhere with a little momentum. Eden Rock's particular personality gives those expectations a clear home.

The rebuilding after Irma adds depth to that brightness. Bringing a familiar place back requires decisions about what people loved, what can be saved and what has to be remade. For a returning guest, a recognizable silhouette may carry the relief of seeing something believed lost. Eden Rock's sociability has that resilience behind it. There is good reason to enjoy the evening.

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The welcome has an author.

Sometimes it is a founder whose choices are still recognizable. Sometimes it is a gardener, a designer or the person who knows how to make a dinner table feel at ease. A hotel’s character gathers around that work.

I find those people worth writing about. Their decisions offer something to anyone trying to make a business more thoughtful, more distinctive or simply a better place to spend time.

If there is a story in your own business that deserves this kind of attention, I would enjoy talking about writing or consulting.

A few practical details

Before you go

Which parts of North America and the Caribbean does this essay cover?

The 17 hotels are in the United States, Canada, The Bahamas, Antigua and St Barthélemy. The selection includes Hawaiʻi and Alaska, city hotels, historic estates and remote lodges.

Is The Inn on Biltmore Estate inside Biltmore House?

No. The Inn is a separate hotel on Biltmore Estate. It opened in 2001; Biltmore House opened in 1895.

Is every villa at Hermitage Bay equipped with a private pool?

No. Private pools belong to specified villa categories. Check the current accommodation description when booking. Hermitage Bay also offers different meal plans, so inclusions depend on the arrangement selected.

Is Le Toiny’s beach club exclusively for hotel guests?

No. The beach club welcomes visitors as well as hotel guests. The hotel’s 22 suites each have their own private pool and terrace.

Can I visit these hotels at any time of year?

Opening dates, access and activities vary. Some properties operate seasonally, and remote stays depend on weather. Use the official links in each story to confirm dates, transfers, room categories and current inclusions.

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