Hotels for Living In

That summer itch has arrived - the impulse to escape the inbox and the stifling routine. You want to be elsewhere, ideally with a sea breeze. But there’s work to do. Always work to do.

So, what if you didn’t choose between work and escape?

Enter: The Hybrids. Not tourists. Not locals. The new nomads. They’re midlife, multi-city, high-expectation, and often highly mobile. They want the stability of home with the fluidity of travel. And they’re reshaping the hotel and the home, in their image.

If the digital nomads of the 2010s gave us the MacBook-on-a-beach cliché, today’s Hybrids are far more ambitious. They don’t just need Wi-Fi and a strong flat white; they want all the mod cons of modern life, wherever they are. The rise of the high-end serviced apartment proves the point. Long Harbour and Way of Life are leading the charge with spaces like The Eades in London, where residents live in exquisitely designed apartments with everything under one roof: coworking lounges, private dining rooms, yoga studios, and, of course, all without ever being more than 20 metres from a barista-made cortado. People are done tolerating damp terraces with an ever-growing list of “things that are f**ed” taped to the fridge. They want life, curated. Not a room to sleep in, but a frictionless ecosystem to live from. They want seamless living. At home, and away.

And hotels have noticed. Longer stays, mid-week regulars, summer sabbaticals. Guests are checking in for months, not nights. For the Hybrids, the answer isn’t exile or return, but something more fluid: staying longer, moving often.

So, is this the ultimate luxury? Living in a hotel?

Not a new idea - think The Pierre or The Ritz Tower - but it’s back, reimagined. Take the newly launched Jumeirah Residences Emirates Towers in Dubai: 754 branded homes with sky terraces, infinity pools, cinemas, coworking lounges, and 24/7 hotel service. Permanence, with a turndown service.

But the most meaningful shift isn’t about convenience. It’s about community.

Today’s Hybrids don’t just want a place to cowork, they want to belong. To be embedded in a place, not just visiting. At Kanalhuset in Copenhagen, communal dinners are served at long shared tables each evening. Guests become neighbours. Join a choir, paint in the studio, share a glass of wine with someone you’ve never met. It’s hospitality with ritual and community.

The rise of Longevity Retreats shows we’re craving more than just wellness; we’re craving connection. But perhaps the real shift isn’t escaping to some curated commune in the mountains. It’s choosing to engage with the communities already around us. To build belonging into our everyday lives. Even when we travel.

The pandemic scattered us. Then grounded us. And forced us to ask: How do I want to live? Where do I belong?

For the Hybrids, the answer isn’t exile or return, but something more fluid. They want fewer distinctions between travel and life. They’re not checking in, they’re setting up shop. They want belonging, not booking confirmation emails. And not just to visit somewhere beautiful, but to live well within it.

In the end, maybe it’s not about where you go, but how well you live when you get there.