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W Bangkok Hotel Review

Read the W Bangkok Hotel ReviewThe Walking Critic ~ the travel and lifestyle blog of an award-winning writer and entrepreneur.

Oh, my god, “Come to Papa!” Those were literally my first thoughts, as my taxi pulled up to the front of W Bangkok. I just knew I had arrived somewhere in the vicinity of heaven and all the angels were going to fawn over my bags and swallow me up into their air-conditioned abyss-of-a-lobby. Which they did. I have never been so pleasantly shocked as I was, walking through those slide doors and into one of those classic Hanna Barbera cartoon moments, when Tom gets smacked in the face by Jerry with a frying pan. Let’s just say that it was eye-opening!

the lobby

The lobby was a vast swathe of real estate that was barely occupied by small smatterings of perfectly clad people, that somehow paled into the background, like accessories to a fashion show. I couldn’t tell if I was in the shoot, or on the set. Of part of a flash mob. To my left was a courtesy stand with rose-scented water (I’ll come back to that later). On my right was a long reach of tables and computers and immaculately groomed bowing employees, attending to the few and mostly querulous travellers. At the fore was a massive black marble mural, encrusted with thousands of tiny crystals. I believe it portrayed the tussle between a swooping dragon and a pugnacious tiger. It was a modern take on traditional Thai art. The check-in desks were topped with black marble too, yet their facias were lit up with glaring, neon purple. A small “Welcome” sign beckons me. I focused on the first letter: “W”. Was that intended? Of all the 40 or 50 hotels that I’ve visited in the last 6 months, none have made me stop in my tracks, before checking in. This was a first time. Ever. Zero, zip, have made me meander and snoop around before going through the necessary sign in process. I was captivated by the moment. Kind of enmeshed in my own private awe. I felt like blotting paper (for those that can remember such ancient necessities). I was really, truly, amazed. Absorbed.

Clearly, I am not a model or YouTube blogger. And nor am I here to strut my stuff and flex my pecs. Far from it. I will leave that up to the surreal world of silicon parts and pouted lips.

My craft comes in the form of words. I feel they are slightly more appealing, than gluttonous meat squeezed into bathers and bikinis.

In 35 years, I have helped well over 500,000 travellers make a decision on where to holiday. I may be not ready for a statue yet, but I am an expert, grey hair and all.
In my guise as The Walking Critic, I seek to entertain both you and myself. Hello.....I go to these places every day!

My mission is to share my passion for travel, through informative reviews and first-hand experiences. To take you on epic journeys from fantastic hotels and adventure cruises, to total nightmares. From sky scrapers to war bunkers.

If I make you smile, then I have achieved my goal. And we are all better for it.

" “W”. Was that intended? Of all the 40 or 50 hotels that I’ve visited in the last 6 months, none have made me stop in my tracks, before checking in.

Behind and to the left (of the “rose scented” water stand) was the WOOBAR. Another neon, electric place; too early for people to chill at 10am, except the tired and industrious. Both were there. One guy was sprawled over a white leather arm chair. He was either asleep. Or dead. I had barely parted with my credentials and I was already getting the gist and flavour of W Bangkok. I loved it. I didn’t want my bubble to be burst by the perfunctory and mundane informalities of give-me-your-money-and-passport. But like all good stories, it had to end. “Is Mastercard okay?” I mumbled, breaking the ice.

I relented and “did my bit”, grabbed my very cool room key (it was embossed with a pug dog wearing red sunglasses), and then followed my guide, past the huge windows and merchandise stands, before turning sharply to the left and the elevator doors.
“Huh?” I thought to myself. “What just happened?

elevator doors

If you’d asked me two months ago about W Hotels, I would have spat up a cat fur ball of “what-ness?” A big dollop of “huh?” And a lot more, “Seriously!” But now that I’ve passed my apprenticeship, I’m a fully-fledged and badged convert that is fleet of foot and carrying secrets, learnt en route.
W BANGKOK HOTEL REVIEW-view-from-the-24th-floor-Sathorn-Road.
And here is one. An elevator (or lift) may be the arterial vein and spine of a hotel property, but I also know that W Hotels values it. It is not just a conveyance between two points, but an integral part of the W experience. In my very own surgical way of analysing hotels, I now smile, knowing that it is cutting-edge marketing. Leading from the front. Management dexterity. Proving that all details in a hotel matter, not just a few. Every aspect of hotel living has been considered and every step managed. From concept to implementation. Rest assured, nothing is boring in a W hotel.

"Seriously!” But now that I’ve passed my apprenticeship, I’m a fully-fledged and badged convert that is fleet of foot and carrying secrets, learnt en route.

Every W property has its own signature theme and generally this is when the light-bulb-in-the-head goes off and you go “Oooohh!” or “Wowww!” As I pivoted on my heels and turned the corner to the left, I was met by a dark, purplish cove that lit up with an ever-intensifying crescendo of glinting car brake lights. I felt like Dougal, my old black Labrador, when he was confounded by the unknown. He would cock his head to one side and raise his ears. As if I would have an answer to his WTF problem! And then the flashes and glinting started to quicken and fill the void, until the entire wall was a mass of seething, flashing, rush-hour madness. I was transfixed until my lovely guide interrupted. “These are tuk tuk lights.” I totally got it. Clever! We’re in Bangkok! For the first time, I chuckled. Warmly. To myself. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when infatuation kicked in, or later when the warm, fuzzy feelings of syrupy love filled the void. But it must have been somewhere then. As I was about to be “run over”! I was picking up on subliminal messages. Nuances. Themes. Purple. Dark. Moody. Sexy. Fun. I had no idea what I was in for, but whatever metamorphosis was happening, I didn’t want it to end. Even if I was about to be flattened by 100 tuk tuks!

the lift doors open

When the lift doors opened on the 24th floor, it was a solemn moment. There was no sense of “arrival” like at the W Hong Kong. Nor was it clinical, like at W San Francisco. No, it was sort of middle-of-the-road. In between. It was actually quite refreshing, after my metaphorical episode of lobby road rage. I turned right into the seeming darkness and ambled a few metres towards my room. The number was clearly lit up and hard to miss. Music was playing in the background. Softly.

spectacular room 2415

As unlikely as this sounds, I rarely research a hotel before reviewing it, because I like my first impressions to be precisely that: untainted, unclouded and uncluttered by marketing hype. But I did unearth one little mystery before booking into the W Bangkok. I had been forewarned that my room would be unique and triangular in shape. This vision had taxed my over-active imagination for the entire flight from Perth to Hong Kong and then Bangkok. Even as I walked those final paces down the corridor, I had delusions of Toblerone chocolate and cheese wedges. But all that dissipated when I prised open the door to a very different setting. I had another private “wow” moment to myself.

There was nothing overtly triangular or pointy about the room at all. In fact, the shape was kind of lost in the immensity of open planned space, where bursts of colour leapt from the backdrop of black and white monochromes. Little accents blended with bold patterns and modern furnishings. Ingenious and fun cameos of Thai boxing leapt out from the bed cover print, with sparing dragons. And then there was the folly of oversized muay thai boxing gloves. Big, fat, gold ones. I think they were supposed to be used as DO NOT DISTURB signs that you hung outside the door. A bit more fun. Another chuckle. For the first time in my W experiences, I actually understood the W concept. This really was a “Spectacular Room” in every sense of the meaning. From the joie de vivre of hotel living, to the creature comforts of a king size bed.

A wide glass desk was a luxury that straddled the window. The view was nothing special but that was immaterial, as the functionality of the work space mattered most to me. I spend a lot of time on the road and the bank of plugs, with built-in adaptors, was much appreciated. An instant solution for the plethora of camera gear and computers that traipse around the world beside me. Innovation and high technology are synonymous with W Hotels and indeed, my Spectacular Room. Master lighting controls are wall-mounted beside the bed, though I did notice how the stickers (WAKE UP, READING LEFT, SLEEP MY LOVE, MASTER OFF) had all been stuck to the original chrome plate, by someone that must have warmed up in the cocktail cabinet beforehand! Clearly they didn’t care how askew or straight the labels were affixed!

Joking apart, the tags like “SLEEP MY LOVE” are fun and gimmicky, but not when you are tired or waking up, or when your brain is less engaged. Clearly the original concept failed, because no one could read the embossed plates, hence the new, bigger white stickers. Even then, I had issues in the morning trying to figure out what switch did what. I just pressed every button until the right one worked. I would call it bedside Russian Roulette! There was an iPad on the other side of the bed, which had swipe and touch controls too. But you needed a visa to get to it, as it was so far away! Yet the one image, that still sticks in my mind the most, is the sheer volume of space. 43 square metres of it. I never felt trapped or confined. To the contrary, I felt liberated and relaxed. At no time did I have to tip-toe around bags or furniture. It was like the perfect bachelor pad.

spectacular cupboard space

Smooth finishes define the texture in the Spectacular Room and this includes the white hallway cupboards that run flush to the walls. When you open the doors, the interior is brightly lit, revealing two chrome hanging racks and a plethora of black wooden hangars. A low level 3-drawer chest sits in the corner. The top drawer conceals a deep electric safe deposit box. Deep enough to take a camera or two! Of course, the W Signature Bathrobe was a welcome sight, as were the white slippers and luggage rack. I put the fold-out rack by the window and left my suitcase on it for the entire three days.

I reflected how most hotels hide their alcohol from sight, but not the case with W Bangkok. Here they champion consumption as part of modern living, not something to bury in political correctness and banish from view. Of course, part of that openness has a lot to do with “add-on sales” and very little to do with being “cool”. There is a price list beside every temptation and nothing that says “On the House,” except for branded water bottles! And then I remembered my cluster of colourful Post It Note coupons, that I had been given upon check-in. A quick scan reinforced the same thoughts. Spend more money and you’ll get a bonus! But I really didn’t mind. I was having a great time. And in fairness to W Bangkok, it was part of the experience. Like being woken up from a jet-lagged induced coma to answer the door from housekeeping.

I was really in no mood for a turn down service, but almost instantly, my “Fing hell,” turned into “Fing great!” A smiling face pushed past me and placed a complimentary tray on the coffee table. It had instructions on how to make my own Iron Balls G&T. I smiled all over. I felt like a kid doing his first cooking class. Like I’d never been angry. This was my new toy and no one else was going to play with it! Or drink it!

It is these little details, that turn into big moments, that define a modern day 5-star hotel. It tells the paying punter that he matters. That he exists. That he’s noticed. As I cherished my new creation, having loved the process of making and then imbibing this gift, I couldn’t help feeling that this surreal moment was better suited for W Hong Kong. At that hotel, it is all about Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Yet oddly, the colours, the cocktails, the potions, the affectations and foibles, the eccentricities were in greater abundance in Bangkok. Here you lived the story all the time, not some of the time.

the bathroom

The bathroom is the first sight you encounter when entering the room. It’s a vast open-planned area that is partially segregated from the lounge by a giant wall of thick purple glass. It is stunning. It breathes life into the space, breaking the monotony of corridor monochromes with a flash of bold colour. It’s a statement in its own right and part of W’s colour branding.

Almost simultaneously, your eyes are drawn to a white, kidney shaped, free-standing bathtub in front of the same glass wall. It is inviting. Designed for two people. Another stand-out feature that breaks the hotel industry norm. A thin gold curtain can be drawn across the face of the bathroom for further privacy, separating the bathroom from the passageway.

The toilet has its own enclosure encased by dark, smoky glass and lined with black tiles throughout. It is not totally transparent. A wall mounted mirror hangs above the vanity and sink. The entire frame has a sort of theatrical feel, with strong backlighting. Even the shower curtain plays on the theme of drama, with a silvery shimmer. I get the feeling that W Bangkok wants everyone to feel like a movie star. My only negative is storage space. I’m use to big bathroom counter tops in hotel rooms, but at W Bangkok, there is no room for a wash bag next to the sink. Mine’s not that big, but my goodness, a woman would be in serious trouble with all her travel lotions and potions!

What limited space you are offered is taken up with a sprinkling of Bliss bathroom goodies on one side and W-branded water bottles on the other. Yet it is not all doom and gloom. Butting up against the sink is a tall shelving ladder. Like old English library steps. I shunted the complimentary items to one side and squashed my trusty wash bag there. It stayed there for the entire duration of my stay. It just took a little while to get used to that spot.

cocktail & cuisine

I’m going to go on a limb here, because of all 50 or more hotels that I’ve visited this year, W Bangkok takes top honours. Without exception. W Bangkok consistently and unquestionably delivered excellence throughout my stay. Its food was not just good. It was great. Something that I never expected before my stay, but hey ho, surprises abound and I welcome them. Breaking with my own tradition, I am going to review all the bars and restaurants at W Bangkok separately and in greater detail. They deserve their own plug. But for now, here is is a brief summary to chew over.

The variety and choice of meals here was outstanding. Take THE KITCHEN TABLE for instance, where breakfast is a medley of Western and Asian offerings. I visited here every morning and it was heaving with conference attendees and families and people like me. But when it came to lunch, it was a more sedate affair that unravels its gourmet secrets and triumphs in the process.

My second hero is THE HOUSE ON SATHORN which achieves another pinnacle of culinary and cocktail genius. It is detached in its own world, despite being part of the bigger hotel complex that overshadows it. Originally built in 1899, this colonial, neoclassical mansion has become a Thai national heritage home. It sits within the hotel’s courtyard. It is the perfect complement to W Bangkok’s modernity, a reminder that style and panache has its roots in history somewhere. W Hotels shape that past and carries the torch forward for today’s traveller. For me, I see the light too. It is not about staying at a hotel. It is about living in one.

Within THE HOUSE ON SATHORN is THE COURTYARD, which as the name suggests is precisely that: a courtyard. It is flanked by the taller and colourful surrounds of colonnades and arched windows. The terracotta roof tiles It’s an informal and open-air dining area situated on wooden decking. Umbrellas provide shade and shelter from all the elements, though little use for the stifling humidity.

And then there is THE BAR inside THE HOUSE ON SATHORN. THE BAR is beautifully faithful to its colonial past and another era when it was the Russian Embassy (1948-1999). I’ve had the good fortune to be in a real Russian embassy before, where everything was an overstatement of machismo-grandeur and one-upmanship. Today, stripped of its diplomatic pomp, THE BAR takes on a whole new air of excitement. It is not a contrived cover for national insecurities, even though there are trickles of past over-exaggeration: giant Corinthian columns and heavily vaulted ceilings; panelled walls and parquet floors. And it’s definitely a wood carver’s paradise. But no, the transformation into THE BAR is stunning, a trifecta of Thai, Russian and modern revival rolled into one. The interior design has been brilliantly executed balancing dark and chunky leather seating with soft cushions and smooth wall colours. The space is immensely inviting especially the bar which beckons like a glowing and colourful LED altar.

The cocktail choices were both alluring and inspiring. I left not just with an impression, but a lasting memory.

the house of sathorn dining room

One of my greatest pleasures being a travel writer and reviewer is when I run across unsung heroes and heroines in the hotel world. I call them stars. And such was the case meeting Natcha Booncharoen, Assistant Marketing Communications Manager, W Bangkok. Natcha invited me to dinner at THE DINING ROOM. I normally accept dinner appointments without flinching, but what is really weird, is that it was on my last night in Bangkok and I really didn’t want to go anywhere, let alone to dinner. My gut was saying, “Go!” and my heart was saying, “To bed!” I was tired and overdosing on W. I’d been tarred and feathered with a punishing schedule and the lure of any other “letter”, in the alphabet, was infinitely more attractive than the “double V”. Or W. But she persisted and nudged. Nicely. And I accepted. My deference to socialising that evening mutated into one of the best experiences of my life, not just in Bangkok, but in all my professional wanderings. Natcha had booked us a prime perch at the bar at 6.30pm. The place was empty which was perfect in my calendar of do-nothingness. And the fact that we were at the bar, peering into the kitchen woke me up instantly. For those that know me really well, this is where and when I’m most at home. The Bar and the kitchen. As I said before, I will review this separately and later, but I cannot pass over this point now without comment, because I was entertained, tantalised, treated to a medley of extreme culinary skills that rendered me completely mute. It wasn’t just the food, the taste, the inspirations that excited me. Those were just chapters in my W saga. It was the whole story. Eating food was just part of that journey.

Natcha’s company, knowledge and energy got me through the door and for that reason, she gets gold star number one. She got me eating, drinking and learning. Another trifecta. Star number two goes to Chef Fatih Tutak and this needs some explaining. I did a kind of double take when I discovered he was Turkish, not out or prejudice but out of respect. And a degree of humour. Proof to the hoity-toity institutions (French) that think they own cooking (English) that anything is possible with talent (Turkish). Chef Fatih was groomed at the Bolu Mengen cooking school in Istanbul and then climbed the ranks with stints in Beijing, Tokyo, Singapore, Demark and Hong Kong. One of his most notable ranks was as the Chief Sous Chef at the Marina Bay Sands Hotel. I love how he’s taken his globetrotting experience to THE HOUSE OF SATHORN with flair. It is almost rude to call his talent “cooking”, because his creations are masterpieces of art. A fusion of the senses: taste, sight, touch, smell.

With Chef Fatih at the helm, THE HOUSE ON SATHORN has been acknowledged as one of the top 50 restaurants in Asia, not just in Thailand. And this is where I love W Hotels: always two steps ahead. Winning. Another “W”. Which brings me to my third and final gold star, Volker Burth, Director – Food & Beverage. This was not a planned encounter. It was an off-the-cuff, per-chance meeting. At the bar. My favourite board room venue. It was fascinating. After twenty minutes chatting to Volker everything made sense. I knew why the food was so good at W Bangkok. It came to passion as well as craftsmanship. Pushing the boundaries of excellence. Giving people not just food but a total experience. I had reached the end of my Thai trail, my magnum opus, my piece de resistance. It was like grouting tiles. The perfect smooth finish. It has opened my eyes to a whole new world of W Hotels that I want to experience. Like collecting rate coins or gems.

the woobar

This is the third WOOBAR I’ve been to in a year and W Bangkok is definitely the most glamorous to date, yet I have to say, not the most fun. W San Francisco wins the fun gong, so far. However, I have to take that opinion with a modicum of salt since I am just passing by for a fleeting moment. The bar stretches the length of the room and is a continuum of the lobby theme: black marble, studded crystals, glowing neon purple. It is ultra-modern with contrasting monochromes of white leather arm chairs dotted with black throw cushions, as well as white modular cubes and bar stools. Even the floor is a heavy contrast of linear tiles in various hues of white and grey, counterpointed by a deep, dark black carpet. The centre of the bar breathes life and soul into the place. A single shelf runs the full course of the wall which is a silvery-white shimmer. It is host to a giant row of liqueurs and spirits that beckon you. I visited the WOOBAR quite a few times, outside of regular drinking hours and I was not alone with my laptop. It was a very soothing and professional feel. On another occasion, I took refuge there in the air-conditioned space trying to recover from walking up to the Banyan Tree hotel (about 2kms away). Not a good idea in the sweltering humidity. I was overheating. And there, like an epiphany, was the rose flavoured water stand (I promised earlier I would return to this subject). Now I know why it was there. I recharged my body several times with this elixir, using cocktail napkins to wipe my brow. The WOOBAR became my saviour. And then there was the time when my lovely masseuse at the AWAY SPA said, “We have a men’s night here.” The conversation went along the lines of, “Why should there only by a Ladies Night in hotels?” I nodded agreement. What a clever marketing idea. Another win for W Bangkok. This would pull the single ladies in. The bar would be packed. What a fun night! No. Not a fun night if you are straight! She forgot to use the word “gay” man’s night! Luckily for me, I had somewhere else to go for dinner. I decided, after one too many flirtatious moments and pursed lips, to slide carefully into the nether regions of the lobby and into Sathorn Road. My metrosexuality had reached its finality.

the fit gym

Living on the road, in and out of hotels, consuming vast amount of liquid and solid calories needs a counterbalance. The Fit Gym is where you start that process. The gym at W Bangkok is clean and modern and by the pool. The equipment and running machines are perfectly adequate and I have to say, I really enjoyed going there. The hotel offers complimentary towels and water and pretty much everything needed to shed a tiny bit of that fat build up. The staff could not have been friendlier and more helpful. More into customer service than “look how big my muscles are”!

away spa

had been instructed by the cavalcade of women in my life that I was not allowed to come home unless I had experienced the AWAY SPA at W Bangkok. Part of this was a jealous wish to experience the treatments themselves. The other part was to see me squirm. I think they had a morbid fascination with my total lack of spa lingo. Words like facials, body scrubs, wraps, Espa products, Style Lab Beauty Salon, unisex Hammam….all these fall outside my vernacular. I related to them about, as much as I would reading road maps in Cantonese! But this is where my metro-sexuality kicks in. I quite like a bit of pampering. I just wonder why I don’t do more outside of international travel. I’ll have to redress that some time. I looked at the 6-page AWAY SPA meu and found this: AWAY MASSAGE METAMORPHOSIS OUR UNIQUE SIGNATURE MASSAGE, METAMORPHOSIS WILL SEND WAVES OF RIPPLING ENERGY THROUGHOUT YOUR BODY’S ENERGY SYSTEMS UNLEASHING A RENEWED YOU. THIS TREATMENT IS DESIGNED TO CREATE A METAMORPHOSIS EFFECT BEGINNING WITH A NURTURING WELCOME, COCOONING YOU TO A PLACE OF ESCAPE WHERE YOU CAN RETREAT FROM THE WORLD AND UNDERGO YOUR OWN PERSONAL DETOXIFICATION. RELEASE TENSION AND TOXINS FROM THE BODY, FOCUSING ON THOSE TIGHT AREAS THAT ACCUMULATE DAILY STRESSORS OF LIFE, THE HEAD, NECK, BACK AND SHOULDER AREAS. WITH OUR SIGNATURE ESSENTIAL OILS, REFUEL AND UNFURL YOUR WINGS WITH A FULL BODY MASSAGE LIKE NO OTHER YOU HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED.WITH RHYTHMIC AND DYNAMIC FLOWS, STROKES, STRETCHES AND TECHNIQUES TO EMERGE FROM YOUR COCOON INTO A BEAUTIFUL SOCIAL BUTTERFLY READY TO SPREAD YOUR WINGS AND TAKE FLIGHT. “This is a massage right?” I asked the giggling girls. “What’s with the wings and butterflies bit?” I booked in for a 90-minute session costing 3,500 BHT (or about AUD $135). This part I could understand on the extensive 6-page menu! And then I was lead off through the doors to metamorphose into an insect. The inside of the AWAY SPA is amazing. I have done my fair share of treatments around the world and in hotels but this was noticeably more soothing, calm and clean. My masseuse spoke really good English and was excellent. I don’t like soft or hard massages. I like them in between and she nailed it. She was also fun to talk to and really informative when I wasn’t drifting off into nirvana. After an hour and a half, I was indeed recharged. I’d been promised a hot and soothing ginger tea at the end of my session which I got. I felt immensely at peace. Collecting my thoughts. Purged of stress. I was indeed ready to spread my wings.

my parting thoughts - W Bangkok hotel review

I am so glad that I listened to my inner instincts and embarked on my own journey of discovery with W Hotels, because it has allowed me to understand who they are and where they are going to. In doing this W Bangkok hotel review, I have sat up to take notice of things that I would otherwise have missed before. And I feel as if I have barely scratched the surface of what is out there in W World. I love their innovation and sensory excitement. It’s welcome change from the monotony and routine of other hotel chains. And I cherish the individuality of each property, whilst recognising the threads and colours of the W brand. It makes me want to experience more. To see what secrets each W Hotel holds, at every spot and exotic destination. Just to say “I’ve been there!” W Bangkok has set a benchmark that I will judge other hotels by. The inculcation of local culture, the infusion of quality dining, cutting edge interior design, attention to detail, personality, energy, innovation. And for me, humour. Fun. W Bangkok is inordinately sexy. The people, the food, the cocktails, the architecture, the interior design, the vibe. All the ingredients point towards excellence and what should be a litmus test for other 5-star hotels.