ONCE upon a time, there was an airport called Gatwick. The airport hotel was called the Meridian. That hotel has now become the Sofitel at London Gatwick Airport. Obviously there’s a school of thought that if you keep changing your name, people will think you’re doing something good.

Apparently they’ve just spent £9 million upgrading the place. God knows what it must have been like before. The designer seems to have done his best to make you think you are still in the airport: there’s even a rather grim stainless steel fountain that looks like an enormous shotgun cartridge. I suppose it is intended to echo the steel pyramid in the airport lounge. It does, but comes off worse in comparison.

One of the implied advantages of an airport hotel is that whatever time you arrive, all the facilities are working. People who stay in such a place do so because they can arrive late and leave early. So why was the coffee machine turned off at 10.30pm when I showed up, and breakfast not served before six in the morning, the time that I was due to board my flight to Montpellier?

I asked the waitress. She had been working there for only a week and didn’t have a clue. I asked the receptionist. He had been there for three weeks, so was quite an experienced member of staff, but was German and only wanted to talk about the World Cup. I am always suspicious when I check into a hotel and find the staff has been there about as long as I have.

There are people who check into airport hotels in the hope of a sleepless night. They don’t want to be kept up by low-flying aircraft, but by a bevy of air hostesses, preferably foreign. Obviously I am too experienced a traveller to harbour such thoughts, but in the name of research I made for the bar. There were no hostesses, just two middle-aged couples who were heading for Bermuda the next morning and drinking triple vodkas before take-off. I thought about going to the gym or the swimming pool, but was told that they were both closed until further notice. More refit needed.

I went to the room. With its strange artwork and brown and red striped carpet, this is not a place where you would want to spend a lot of time. But it was clean, with large windows offering a fine view of the monorail and the Surrey countryside. I slept well until they woke me up with the news that it was 5.30am and my flight would be leaving in an hour. I checked out, and walked across a ramp and straight into the north terminal.

The exit is probably the best thing about the place.



Bottom line: Rupert Wright paid £144.53 for his room.

Need to know: Sofitel London Gatwick (01293 567070, www.sofitel.com).

Sampling the fare: I arrived too late for dinner and left too early for breakfast. There was no espresso coffee because the machine had been turned off. However, there was nothing wrong with the Jameson whiskey.

Best thing: Close to the airport.

Worst thing: The carpet reminded me of those old British Airways nylon uniforms.

Access all areas: Yes.

Room: 7 out of 10.

Service: 5 out of 10.

Value: 6 out of 10.

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