Why I Prefer the Cheapest, Sleaziest Hotels

I’m a connoisseur of cheap hotels. And I’m not just talking about the inexpensive kind. In fact, nowadays I don’t mind paying a little extra to get that cheap feeling in my overnight accommodations. It’s the ambiance of sleaziness that I crave.

In my younger days, a fleabag hotel was an upgrade in my travels, particularly during cross-country bicycle trips, when sleeping under bridges or stealthily setting up my pup tent after dark in a city park was the norm. At that point in my life, finding free — or at least dirt cheap — lodging was a necessity.

But somewhere along the line I developed a true passion for seedy hotels, to the point where now, when I could afford something nicer, I find myself seeking out those places that make a Motel 6 look like the Waldorf Astoria. You know, the kind of hotels where you need to put down a $20 deposit to get the free porno movies turned off in your room.

Holiday Inn, I believe, used to use the marketing slogan “Expect no surprises.” Well, when I travel I want some surprises. I want to get to meet people and see things I wouldn’t otherwise experience. I want to have some adventures — even some misadventures. I want to have some good stories to tell when I’m an old man. That’s why I gravitate toward lowbrow lodgings and away from national chains. And if I save money because of it, I can travel even more.

Just two weeks ago I stayed at a particularly slovenly hotel (actually a “motor lodge,” which is a sure sign that you’re in for a treat) during one of my book-tours-by-bicycle in the Pacific Northwest. It was so rundown and derelict that I was shocked to find a mint on my pillow in the evening. When I asked about it the next morning at the front desk, they assured me that it had probably just fallen out of the mouth of the guy who slept there the night before.