Room Mate Anna Hotel

You don’t come to Barcelona to sleep in a beige box. If you wanted that, you could’ve stayed at the airport. You come here for the noise, the light, and the architectural ego of men like Gaudí who decided that straight lines were an insult to God. Room Mate Anna sits right in the middle of that ego, perched on the corner of Carrer d’Aragó and Passeig de Gràcia, the city’s high-fashion spine. It’s a location that says you’ve arrived, even if you’re just here to crash between tapas crawls.

The interior is a Lorenzo Castillo production, and he didn't hold back. It’s loud. It’s turquoise. It’s full of patterns and textures that should, by all rights, give you a migraine, but instead, they feel like a cool breeze off the Balearic Sea. It’s a design-heavy punch to the gut that tells you exactly where you are: the Eixample. This isn't the dusty, gothic mystery of the old city; this is the grid where Barcelona shows off its wealth and its weirdness. The lobby feels less like a hotel check-in and more like the living room of a friend who has too much money and a very expensive habit of collecting avant-garde furniture.

The rooms follow suit. They aren't just places to store your luggage; they are loud, textured spaces that refuse to be ignored. Whether you’re in a Basic room or a Suite, the attention to detail is obsessive. But let’s be honest, you aren’t staying here to stare at the wallpaper. You’re here because when you step out the front door, you are staring at the bone-like balconies of Casa Batlló. You are in the epicenter of Modernisme. If you want to understand why this city is the way it is, you just have to look up.

One of the best things about this place—and something more hotels should emulate if they gave a damn about their guests—is the breakfast. They serve it until noon. In a city where dinner doesn't even start until 10:00 PM and the gin and tonics flow until the sun comes up, a 9:00 AM breakfast cutoff is a human rights violation. Anna gets it. You can sleep off the vermouth, crawl downstairs at 11:30 AM, and still get your caffeine and calories without being judged by a surly waiter.

Then there’s the rooftop. It’s not a massive, sprawling beach club, and thank God for that. It’s an intimate terrace with a circular plunge pool that’s more for cooling your heels than swimming laps. But the view is the real currency here. You’re looking out over the rooftops of Eixample, watching the sun hit the dragon-scale roof of Casa Batlló from an angle the tourists choking the sidewalks below will never see. It’s a moment of quiet in a city that is anything but.

Is it perfect? No. It’s on a major intersection, so if you’re the kind of person who needs absolute silence to sleep, you might find the hum of the city a bit much. The service is young and energetic, which is great, but don't expect the stiff, formal deference of the old-world grand dames. This is a place for people who want to feel the pulse of the city, not hide from it. It’s bold, it’s a little bit arrogant, and it’s exactly what a boutique hotel in Barcelona should be. If you want boring, go somewhere else. If you want to wake up and remember exactly what city you’re in, stay here.