Carols by Candlelight! The Australian Open! Bourke Street Mecca (Not new. But we’ll take any excuse to go back!)
Melbourne always finds a way to tempt me south at least once a year. And this Summer was no different. But what surprised me was that the highlight of the trip wasn’t a show, a restaurant or a gallery — it was where I stayed.
Arriving in the “Paris End” of the CBD is always a little dangerous for someone who loves a window display, and I definitely lingered longer than planned outside the glossy designer boutiques lining Little Collins Street. But after a full day of retail wandering, stepping into the Next Hotel Melbourne, Curio Collection by Hilton, felt like a deep exhale. The moment the doors closed behind me, the noise of the city softened, and I felt the kind of reprieve that typically comes when my favourite sales associate tells me they’ve managed to track down the last pair of pink heels I’ve had my eye on. In my size. And on sale.
The lobby made that known straight away. Sun-dappled and deliberately layered, it mixed cool marble with Persian rugs, oversized cushions and the kind of plush sofa you sink into “just for a minute” and inevitably stay far longer. Warm timber glowed with honeyed light. The leather — naturally softened from use — gave the place an unforced elegance that felt comforting rather than showy. I loved that nothing was clamouring for attention. Everything felt intentional.
As I settled in, the deeper story of the space revealed itself. Woods Bagot had woven subtle references to the site’s late 19th-century life as a horse-and-carriage bazaar into the design. It’s the sort of detail you only notice when you slow down enough to look — and exactly the kind that gives a hotel real character.
That same thoughtfulness followed me up to the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city so beautifully that it felt less like a view and more like a reminder that I was hovering just above the bustle — connected, but comfortably cocooned. The linens had that crisp, high-thread-count confidence that hits the moment your hand brushes the sheets. And the lighting? Soft, layered, never harsh. It adjusted with the mood of the day, which felt like the ultimate small luxury.
There was a grown-up restraint to the space that I appreciated. A curated bar cart instead of an overcrowded minibar. A swivel armchair angled for reading, not influencers with tripods commited to content creation. A Dyson hair dryer. Who is Elijah amenities. Everything quietly signalling: “Stay in. Slow down. Let the room be part of the experience.”
Yet venturing downstairs was arguably my smartest move.
La Madonna — the bar and restaurant — struck that perfect metropolitan balance: dim, but never gloomy; stylish, but not trying too hard. The cocktails were confident and unfussy. I ordered a Manhattan-style blend with house-aged spirits that hit exactly the right note after a long day. Dinner leaned into European technique with Melbourne’s seasonal sharpness: sage-laden burnt-butter gnocchi that tasted like an embrace, and Kingfish crudo cut with citrus so clean it felt like a palate reset.
Breakfast the next morning confirmed how well the hotel understands its guests. Service floated rather than fussed. Plates appeared just before hunger turned into irritation. Perfectly poached eggs, seasonal fruit, coffee strong enough to bring me fully back to life — the kind of breakfast that makes you feel looked after without overthinking it.
And then there was The Club. From 5–7pm, Club Room guests get Aperitivo Hour: wines, craft beers, premium spirits and a rotating spread of antipasti and cheeses. I loved it — the atmosphere was relaxed, grown-up, unpretentious. Whether returning from shopping or signing off from work, it felt like an earned pause in the day.
The location is, of course, exceptional. Everything — galleries, boutiques, laneway bars — was a quick walk away, and trams waited just outside for anything further. But more than once, I found myself choosing to return “home” early. Melbourne moves at a fast, layered, energising pace — and staying at Next Hotel Melbourne gave me the space to enjoy that rhythm while retreating from it just as effortlessly.
Where many CBD stays operate as launch pads, the Next Hotel functions as a cushion. A soft place to land between dinners and day trips. A stay that quietly aligns itself with the way modern travellers move — seeking design that doesn’t perform, service that reads the room, and an atmosphere that restores more than it distracts.
For me, it wasn’t just a hotel on the itinerary. It became the reason to come back.
