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Turndown Service Is Silly; Room Refreshes Aren't

Come at me, Lord Grantham. But you know it's true.

Nothing says "bedtime" quite like placing natural stimulants on your pillow.
Nothing says "bedtime" quite like placing natural stimulants on your pillow.

To clarify, a room refresh makes sense. It entails:

•Having your bed made,

•Having your trash emptied,

•Having your towels replaced,

•Having your room tidied up with minimal intrusion of privacy.

Want a room refresh? By all means put up the sign.
Want a room refresh? By all means put up the sign.

This occurs during the day while the guest is away. In Ocean City, that usually means after 11am and before 4pm.

Turndown service is completely different. While it may have made sense in the great houses of Edwardian England, it makes little sense in a modern hotel, and even less sense in a bed and breakfast like mine with light bedding and uncluttered interiors.

To clarify, turndown service means:

•Removing decorative pillows from the bed (all of mine are for sleeping on, not looking at),

•Drawing very heavy curtains closed (mine are 1-pound curtains with integral sheers, not 3-ton medieval tapestries),

•"Turning down" the bedding so the guest can easily get into bed (my bedding is a triple-sheeted summer comforter that is already turned down, not three layers of fifth-generation country comforters that require an army of chambermaids to untuck them from the headboard and then stow them into a riveted heirloom chest).

•This usually occurs between 5pm and 9pm.


If you ever stay in a room with bedding and window treatments this complicated, by all means opt in for turndown service.
If you ever stay in a room with bedding and window treatments this complicated, by all means opt in for turndown service.

Why anyone would want their privacy invaded so a maid can darken their room several hours before sunset I can’t say. The Internet might play a big part.


If a guest that has seen Scarborough Inn's room interiors requests turndown service, it means:

a. They don't get out much and live vicariously through reality TV shows or TikToks starring nouveau riche celebrities of questionable societal merit, many of whom themselves live vicariously through period dramas.

b. They really want a room refresh and should request that, because that's a different thing entirely.

c. Maybe they just want a chocolate on their pillow?

To close the sheers, simply unhook the orange tieback. And if the already triple-sheeted, turned-down duvet still feels like too much work, you may need a weekend at a hospital, not an inn.
To close the sheers, simply unhook the orange tieback. And if the already triple-sheeted, turned-down duvet still feels like too much work, you may need a weekend at a hospital, not an inn.

Turndown service had its origins when the hotels of continental Europe began hosting nobility on their grand tour. It took a full staff to turn down the young Lord Jimmy's room like mummy did back home. By mummy, I mean her garrison of servants, and by home I mean baronial castle.


Over time, lesser hotels with pretenses of great house grandeur adopted the turndown service ritual until we find ourselves in the present-day where it amounts to little more than an odd intrusion to fill out a hospitality checkbox. Some hotels have decided to lean in to the weirdness by injecting music, bedside stories, and footwear into the sleepy-time fetish arms race.

I get that people want to be pampered, especially on vacation. That's why I spent so much time and money on good water pressure, solid plumbing fixtures, smart TVs, small details in each room like USB outlets built into the bed frame, a literal library of books throughout the hotel for guests to borrow at will, flowers in and around the inn.


I’m also for meaningful gestures of hospitality: opening the door for guests, helping with luggage, making sure all guests have a seat in the lobby before taking one myself, handwritten notes, or a surprise lemonade when time allows.


But I'm not one for cliché service-industry checkboxes. By all means request a mid-day room refresh (or not). But if you really have your heart set on having a 5pm pillow chocolate in a dark room, maybe come down to the porch during happy hour instead to see what snacks we baked, grab a rocking chair and get to know our other guests and staff during the last glimmers of daylight, and perhaps take advantage of all the free beer I offer as you tell me what a better host I'd be if I added anachronistic evening housekeeping theatrics to my to-do list of offerings.

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