When you come from Berlin, everyone seems friendly in Boston — even the border police. But the receptionist who checked me in at the Revere Boston Common was particularly wonderful, offering me a glass of champagne and delivering the ever-welcome news of a complimentary room upgrade.
From the outside, the hotel is a concrete monolith, not so much indistinct as conspicuously unattractive. But they more than make up for things indoors, with a lobby full of sweeping, metallic lines and a centerpiece sculpture that needs to be navigated before you even reach reception. Lesser designers might have thought twice about interrupting the space so, especially with such low ceilings, but somehow everything works. Like an art gallery, but more convivial.
Apparently, the hotel has recently undergone an expensive renovation. My Premium King room had a spectacular city view, and the high floor made for a particularly peaceful stay. Unlike other so-called design hotels I’ve stayed in, the Revere’s fixtures and fittings, like the building itself, are far from flimsy. The decor at times feels futuristic, yet there’s a comforting classicism at play, too. I just wish I’d had the time to flop into the chaise lounge, pull over the laptop table and bask below the giant lamp.
Location-wise, you’re slap bang in the thick of the small, charming city of Boston. I ventured out on foot, and reached Cambridge, the ICA, the symphony hall, and both North and West End without once stepping into a bus, train or cab. Sadly, despite all of that exploring, I never quite managed to find the hotel’s famous rooftop pool and terrace. Pressing the clearly labelled elevator button brought me out to the 23rd floor, but from there I was stuck. Pressed for time, I never got around to asking a member of staff, so I’ll never know what that part of the hotel looks like.