The Travel Critic

Right, so I’ve just come back from a couple of days in Amsterdam, ostensibly on business, which, in my case, involves a laptop, an expense account, and the ability to identify a decent gin and tonic at twenty paces, and I was billeted at the Leonardo Hotel Amsterdam Rembrandtpark.

From the outside it looks like the sort of concrete behemoth that might once have been East German government offices, or the set of a Cold War spy thriller. Big, square, looming. You half expect a man in a trench coat to light a cigarette out front and mutter about dead drops. But then you step inside, and things immediately start to soften. Someone with a Pinterest account and a line in mid-century lighting has clearly been through, because the lobby and bar are actually rather stylish. Warm woods, soft chairs, and an air of “Don’t worry, we’re not as Soviet as we look.”

The rooms are perfectly pleasant , comfortable beds, proper curtains that keep the city’s light pollution out, and, most importantly, coffee pods. Any hotel that saves me from the trauma of Nescafé sachets earns my unqualified approval. One can just about face the first Teams call of the morning if properly caffeinated, and this place delivers.

Now, the bathrooms. Orange walls. Bright, shouty, migraine-inducing orange. It’s less “Dutch master” and more “EasyJet boarding gate.” You find yourself brushing your teeth while squinting, half expecting the stewardess to come down the aisle flogging scratch cards. It’s a rare design misstep in an otherwise competent setup.

And then there are the Rembrandts. Everywhere. You can’t move without bumping into a gloomy Dutch fellow in a ruff glaring at you from the wallpaper. It’s all a bit obvious, like they typed “Amsterdam hotel theme” into Google and went with the first result. But oddly, it sort of works. You get used to being stared at by centuries-old burghers while waiting for the lift. It lends the place a kind of kitsch seriousness.

Service? Genuinely friendly and efficient, which is not always a given in this city. I never once had to wave down a staff member like a man flagging a passing bus, and that alone makes it a win. Breakfast, too, was solid. Good bread (obviously, it’s Holland), proper cheese, decent bacon, and strong coffee. No gimmicks, no weird foams or “breakfast bowls” that taste of regret. Just actual food.

So yes, if you find yourself in Amsterdam on business and need somewhere comfortable that doesn’t make you feel like you’re sleeping in a filing cabinet, the Leonardo is a very decent shout. Stylish enough inside to make you forget its blocky exterior, comfy enough to get a good night’s sleep, and caffeinated enough to survive the day. Just bring sunglasses for the bathroom.