Hotel Twentyseven Copenhagen

The first thing you notice about Hotel Twentyseven is that your cab has pulled up outside the Absolut Ice Bar (dress warmly, everything inside is made of ice, except when it's made of vodka). Then you see a small hotel entrance beside it. Directly ahead as you enter is a wall-sized photograph of a woman seated outside a forest whose skirt has been blown up by the wind, revealing expensive tastes in lingerie.

Certainly it is no less agreeable to contemplate whilst waiting to check in than the usual wooden-masted ship paintings found in more staid hotels. But should the sight begin to pale there are also the video fireplace, the 40-bottle cruvinet wine bar, and some kind of arty video something projected on the wall of a nearby room. The check-in process is accomplished at a freestanding bright red desk topped by three shiny iMac computers.

Our room is decorated in lipstick red, flat white, and matte and gloss black. It is Danish Modern carried to the point of selfconscious irony, and then carried a couple of steps further.

Kristiana's iPhone is right at home in this room.