Hotel Nineteen by Angela Moore

Despite the most discreet of signs, Nineteen is easy to find. This is because it’s the only house on this Kemptown street that has a decent paint job. In fact, the two houses opposite have a distinct air of the crack den about them.

Things on the Nineteen front look much more promising, particularly when you’re greeted by the ravishing Darren. He’ll give you a whistle-stop tour (with only eight rooms and no public space, this is brisk). Pay attention to the downstairs kitchen, where you can make yourself a tea or proper coffee from a flight-deck espresso machine (there’s fresh milk in the fridge), and to the honesty bar, stocked with Budvar, fresh juice and champagne.

Then he’ll give you the keys and his mobile number and leave you to it. For some people, this is amazingly liberating. You can come downstairs to make in tea in your robe and socks with no thought of frightening the staff. You can take a whole bottle of champagne up to your room without worrying that the barman will think you’re a lush if you don’t take two glasses. Others, though, won’t feel comfortable with the “this is your home” vibe. Darren’s only ever five minutes away, but some people just won’t like the thought that there’s no-one on site.

The Rooms
Nineteen is the epitome of anti-chintz. Rooms are white and clean-lined. Huge, luxurious beds are built onto glass bricks which are lit from within, spilling a blue underwater light out into the room (cool, though a bit tricky to turn off.) The white leather headboard has the same blue light spilling through little glass portholes. Linen is luxurious, crisp white cotton. Floors are blond Ikea-wood and those white slatted blinds look Ikea-familiar, too. There is a vase of orchids on a little round breakfast table and a changing display of modern art on the walls. A mirrored wardrobe and rather fabulous chandelier complete the look.

Bathrooms feel a little plasticky, though they are roomy, and have super-power showers and separate baths. Nineteen is very generous with the Molton Brown, which will make up for any frustration caused by fiddling about trying to get the temperature right on your shower.

There’s a good, eclectic selection of CDs and DVDs to match the smart flat-screened TV and decent sound system. You will have to turn this up very, very loud to cut serious noise from the street and from the seagulls – earplugs are provided.

Despite its low-key, back-to-basics feel – really rather like an upmarket hostel - the comfy bed and the relaxed atmosphere mean you could happily while away a whole evening in your room. Fun, especially in the ground-floor room, which opens into a tiny courtyard and a four-person Jacuzzi.

Come for:
- The relaxed, leave-me-in-peace vibe
- Clubbing (Nineteen’s near some big Brighton names)

Not suitable for:
- Anyone who needs room service
- Retired colonels seeking floral bedspreads
- The snow-blind


Eating in, eating out:
No food on site except (free) Curly Wurlies. However, there’s an excellent choice for breakfast in bed and Darren bakes a mean pastry.