Tag: quiet-hotels

  • How to Pick a Hotel When You’re Autistic

    How to Pick a Hotel When You’re Autistic

    (or Just Like Peace, Predictability, and Low Stress)

    Let’s be real: I’m not looking for a champagne welcome or gold-plated doorknobs. I just want a hotel that’s calm, clean, and not a sensory obstacle course. I want a place where I can regulate, rest, and feel like a human again after a long drive or overstimulating outing.

    As someone with autism, ADHD, and an intense dislike for scratchy sheets, surprise noises, and weird smells, I’ve learned to read hotel reviews like a detective. Here’s how I decode them:

    • “Vibrant energy” = overstimulation hell
    • “Walls are thin” = enjoy your neighbor’s 3AM phone call in surround sound
    • “Family-friendly” = sticky handprints, noise, chaos
    • “Chill and quiet” = yes please, I love you already

    So, what’s the dream hotel experience for someone like me? Let’s break it down.


    The Overall Vibe I’m Looking For

    • Quiet, calming energy — no chaotic layouts, overpowering smells, or echoey hallways
    • Clean, minimal rooms — fresh and functional without feeling sterile
    • Respectful staff — no pressure, no upsells, and no knocking when “Do Not Disturb” is on
    • Intuitive design — I shouldn’t need a tech manual to figure out the lights or blinds

    I want a space that feels safe, not like sensory overload in disguise.

    Predictability = Autism Gold

    I feel better when things are predictable. Here’s what helps:

    • Can I pick my room in advance?
    • Online check-in available?
    • Website looks modern and updated?
    • Reviews that feel honest and recent?

    The Hotel Soundtrack (AKA Sensory Overload in 4D)

    To avoid a hotel room that sounds like a construction zone or a toddler birthday party, here’s what I look for:

    • Top floor — no stompy giants above me
    • Away from the pool — unless you enjoy shrieking children and weird water sounds
    • Far from the gym — unless 6AM treadmill thunder is your thing
    • Avoid being near elevators, ice machines, or party-rental rooms
    • Avoid housekeeping closets — unless vacuum ASMR is your vibe
    • Carpeted hallways = less echo, more sanity (cement floors are quieter than wood)

    Cleanliness = Safety

    For me, a clean room is more than a preference — it’s essential. It affects how safe and regulated I feel. A dirty room creates instant trust issues. What I look for:

    • Fresh bedding (no mystery stains)
    • No dust or hair (especially in corners, vents, or the bathroom)
    • Neutral smell — not perfumey, not mildewy, just… neutral
    • Dry, clean towels folded properly

    When a hotel gets it right, I rave about it. When they don’t? I notice everything. 😬

    Hotel staff member wearing white gloves neatly folding and stacking fluffy white towels on a freshly made bed, showing attention to cleanliness and detail.
    Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

    Sensory Reactions Are Real
    It’s not just about what looks clean — it’s about how it feels.

    Smell Matters. A Lot.
    If I walk in and it smells like artificial florals, mildew, or old takeout, I’m already overwhelmed. That “we’re trying to cover something up” smell? No thanks. No guessing games. No “name that cheese smell” vibes.

    Visual Cleanliness = Mental Calm
    Clutter or grime is distracting and dysregulating. My brain starts scanning: “What else isn’t clean?”
    Clean lines, white bedding, and uncluttered surfaces help me relax.

    Lighting Affects Regulation
    Harsh fluorescent lights buzz. Literally. I prefer soft, adjustable lighting so I can wind down at night.

    Texture Matters
    Scratchy sheets? Nope. Thin towels? No thanks. I bring my own blanket because I trust it more than hotel bedding.

    ✅ to all the above? Nice.

    Hotel Policies & Perks

    A few extras that really help when you’re dysregulated or just tired:

    • Will they hold your bags?
    • Flexible check-in or late check-out?
    • Free breakfast (because life is expensive and snacks are essential)
    • An app that lets me check in, message the front desk, and skip awkward conversations? YES PLEASE.

    Comfort Is Non-Negotiable

    • A mattress that isn’t made of bricks or like its stuffed with springs of broken dreams
    • Pillow options (firm and soft = chef’s kiss)
    • No weird noises — I check for squeaky doors, buzzing fridges, or thin walls

    Accessibility Isn’t Extra — It’s Essential

    Even if you’re not using a wheelchair or mobility aid, thinking about accessibility helps everyone. But for folks who do, it can be the make-or-break part of a hotel stay. Here’s what I look for (or wish I could count on):

    • Elevators that don’t play hide and seek
    • Doors wide enough for wheelchairs and mobility aids
    • Step-free entrances — not just “we have a ramp around the back by the dumpster”
    • Grab bars in the bathroom (that don’t feel like they’ll rip off the wall)
    • Showers that aren’t high-step horror shows

    Bonus points for hotels that list this clearly online instead of making you email and wait 4 business days for answers. Everyone deserves to feel safe and welcome — without needing to MacGyver their way into a bathroom.

    Sensory Survival Kit: What I Always Pack (Just in Case)

    Packing light and “going with the flow” is great… for other people. I prepare, plan, and overthink — because unpredictability is exhausting, and I need my tools to regulate and stay grounded.

    These aren’t just travel extras. These are my lifelines. When a hotel isn’t quite what I expected (too loud, too bright, smells weird, mystery bedding), I’m not stuck spiraling — because I came prepared. Here’s what I always bring:

    • Noise-canceling headphones – For blocking out stompy hallway giants, screaming kids, or just… the world
    • Sleep mask – Because I can’t regulate when there’s a blinking light, hallway glow, or 4AM sunrise
    • My own blanket – Trusty, sensory-approved, and better than the weird hotel ones every time, help to regulate me with familiar smells.
    • Backup snacks – For when my safe foods are not around and room service feels like a social panic trap
    • Comfort items – Whatever helps me feel safe: a fidget, plushie, calming scent, or weighted item

    This is my version of self-care — not because I’m “high maintenance,” but because the world wasn’t built for people like me. And I’m not taking chances with my regulation on the road.


    TL;DR — That Was a Lot of Words, So Here’s the Sensory-Safe Cheat Sheet:

    Too long? Didn’t read? Got overwhelmed halfway through? No worries — I got you.
    Here’s the summed-up, no-fluff version of how to hotel like a sensory-sensitive ninja:

    1. Quiet AF – Top floor, away from party zones, no stomp parade overhead
    2. Actually Clean – No mystery stains, smells, or “we tried” vibes
    3. Predictable – App check-in? Modern website? No awkward small talk? Yes please
    4. Lighting that Doesn’t Fight You – Soft, dimmable, not buzzing like a bug zapper
    5. Smells Like Nothing – No floral cover-ups or “what is that?” funk
    6. Not a Sensory Minefield – Simple layout, no chaos decor, no confusing tech
    7. Respectful Staff – Boundaries respected, no pushy upsells, no surprise knock-knocks
    8. Functional Rooms – Mattress that doesn’t fight back, options for pillows, fridge, blackout curtains
    9. Accessibility matters too — Smooth entries, elevators that work, and bathrooms that won’t try to kill you.
    10. Nature Nearby – Or at least not sandwiched between a nightclub and a freeway
    11. Perks That Help – Flexible check-in/out, bag holding, and free breakfast (because snacks = survival)
    12. Don’t Forget Your Sensory Survival Kit:
      • Noise-canceling headphones
      • Sleep mask
      • YOUR blanket (the hotel one doesn’t count)
      • Sensory-safe foods
      • Comfort items (whatever your brain needs to not melt)

    Bonus: Not haunted. 👻