The Travel Critic

Big international chains, when done properly, are not soulless monoliths but something closer to a warm bath drawn at precisely the right temperature. You arrive frazzled, over-stimulated, slightly cross with the world after another immigration queue that seems to have been designed by a sadist, and there it is: beige, marbled, quietly humming with competence. Sanctuary. Relief. Possibly even a decent pillow.

This particular InterContinental Shenzhen WECC is exactly that sort of place. Shenzhen, lest we forget, is not a city so much as a full-blown electrical current, vast, dazzling, faintly exhausting. It fizzes. It whirs. It does not, under any circumstances, sit still. So the importance of a hotel that gently takes you by the shoulders and says “steady on” cannot be overstated.

Even the arrival does its bit. You peel off the street horns, heat, humanity and glide into a driveway that feels like a decompression chamber. By the time you step into reception, your pulse has dropped a good ten beats. There are vast ceilings, the sort that make you instinctively lower your voice, and enough tasteful art to signal “luxury” without screaming it like a football fan with a megaphone. It’s all terribly well judged.

Yes, there is a colossal conference facility attached, acres of it. One imagines battalions of the world’s least fortunate delegates shuffling off to earnest discussions on “Urban Growth Strategies in Asia” or, with a shudder, “Regional Water Infrastructure: Vision 2027.” And yet, crucially, the hotel itself never feels like it’s been entirely given over to the lanyard brigade. The luxury wins. It asserts itself quietly but firmly, like a butler who knows he’s in charge.

The rooms are exactly what you want them to be: large enough to swing both a cat and your existential dread, stylish without veering into the absurd, and kitted out with all the modern paraphernalia one has come to demand. There’s a proper coffee machine (none of your apologetic sachets), and joy of joys a Japanese toilet. Now, I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it offers a level of intimacy and technological enthusiasm that may, in later years, require unpacking with a professional.

Breakfast is a triumph of international diplomacy. Everything is there: East, West, things you recognise, things you pretend to recognise. You can be virtuous, you can be indulgent, or best of all you can be both in quick succession. It is the sort of spread that makes you briefly consider taking up a second breakfast, like a particularly greedy hobbit.

All in all, it’s a terrific hotel. And if you happen to be here for a conference, then frankly, you’ve done rather well out of the whole tedious business. You may have to sit through a PowerPoint on municipal drainage, but at least you’ll be returning, afterwards, to somewhere that understands the deep human need for comfort, calm, and a toilet that knows far too much about you.