Hotel Highlights

  • Edgy neighbourhood retreat
  • Casual, relaxed, pool-enhanced comfort
  • Award-winning eco innovation

Overview

RUNNER-UP: BEST BUDGET BOUTIQUE HOTEL – SMITH HOTEL AWARDS 2013

Home Hotel is an eco-design dream of a boutique hotel, based in a simple ivy-entwined structure in residential Buenos Aires. Each room is kitted out in vintage floral wallpapers and with retro Scandinavian furniture. Staying here is an open-air adventure; an outdoor passageway leads you to the restaurant overlooking the gorgeous grounds. There’s no place like it.

Smith Extra

Here's what you get for booking Home Hotel with us:

A welcome cocktail and 20 per cent off in the spa. SilverSmiths and GoldSmiths also receive 10 per cent off rack rates from May to September

Facilities

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Home Hotel - Buenos Aires - Argentina

Need To Know

Rooms

20, including four suites.

Check–out

11.30am (5pm if you pay for an extra half day). Earliest check-in, 2pm.

Rates

Double rooms from $165.00, excluding tax at 21 per cent.

More details

Rates include breakfast.

Also

The cosy, all-natural spa uses the hotel’s own range of products. It’s open daily between 8.30am and 9.30pm for a whole range of treatments, including massages using techniques from India, Thailand and California.

At the hotel

Spa, CD/DVD and book library, free WiFi everywhere except the spa, and in-room spa and beauty treatments. In rooms: flatscreen TV, CD/DVD player, iPod dock and Home’s home-made bath products.

Our favourite rooms

Be seasonal in your selection – in winter, go for the Poolside Suite, for the wood-burning fireplace out on the sunlounger-scattered terrace. It’s also a historical heavyweight – it has a 1968 George Nelson desk and chair, and some original French wallpaper from 1926. In summer, you want the Garden Suite – it has a rooftop terrace with sunloungers and small pool, and vintage Scandinavian furniture. Both suites have Jacuzzis and their own private entrances from the garden.

Poolside

There’s a heated pool outside in the secluded garden, with decking and trademark floral sunloungers.

Packing tips

This is the city’s media district, so fill your case with geeky specs, high-top trainers and graphic-print T-shirts.

Children

Cots for babies are free. Babysitting can be arranged (ask when booking if possible). Children are welcome in the restaurant all day.

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Eco‐friendly

The hotel has reusable pump dispensers for toiletries in all rooms, individually controlled central heating and air conditioning, and motion sensors that switch off the lights in communal areas when nobody’s around. If it can be, it’s recycled.

Food & Drink

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Hotel Restaurant

The resident bistro takes on classic Latin American dishes such as huevos rancheros (fried eggs with corn tortillas and chilli sauce) and bistec a caballo (steak with fries and a fried egg) with considerable aplomb. The decor features more Scandinavian simplicity – wooden tables, white chairs and rounded garden seating.

Hotel Bar

Hang around for a mojito or Pisco Sour made by master mixer, Daniel Biber – Argentina’s best barman in 2009, apparently. The owner is a DJ and record producer, so listen out for some selective acid house soundtracks.

Last orders

Breakfast is served from 8am until 11am; lunch is midday right up to 4pm; dinner is early for the city – 8pm to 10.30pm. The bar stays open from 8am until midnight.

Room service

A selection of sandwiches and snacks can be ordered between 8am and midnight, with a limited menu available throughout the night.

Smith Insider

Dress code

Hemp dresses and cotton shirts to feel as natural as your surroundings.

Top table

Eat in the lusciously wild garden or take your cocktails poolside.

Local Guide

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Eat, drink, see, do: local favourites and more…

Local restaurants

A couple of blocks away on 1875 Carranza in Palermo Hollywood, try Azema, an exotic bistro serving French, Vietnamese and Moroccan fare (+54 11 4774 4191). Head to next-door neighbourhood Palermo Soho to see what savoury treats the asador (barbecue master) at Don Julio can grill up for you (+54 11 4832 6058).

Local bars

In Villa Crespo, locate Ocho7Ocho – it’s hidden behind the huge doors of an old townhouse on 878 Thames, between Loyola and Aguirre. Ring the bell and hope they let you in for a late-night cocktail (+54 11 4773 1098).

Local cafés

Hang out and have lunch with the arty types at Oui Oui at 6099 Nicaragua. Expect simple sandwiches, soups and salads every day except Monday (+54 11 4778 9614).

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Buzzing barrio

Home Hotel

Honduras 5860, Buenos Aires, Argentina, C1414BNJ

Planes

Ezeiza International Airport is a 45-minute drive; the domestic Jorge Newbery is 15 minutes away by car.

Trains

Walk eight blocks and you’ll reach the Metro, from where you can take line D to the centre of Buenos Aires.

Automobiles

The hotel’s located in the Palermo Hollywood barrio of Buenos Aires, which is around a 15-minute drive out of the city centre. Buses 39, 93 and 111 call in a block away.

Reviews

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Home Hotel - Buenos Aires - Argentina

Anonymous review

by Simon Westcott , Travellerati head honcho at Mr & Mrs Smith

It’s hard to go anywhere today without being slapped in the face by that big wet fish called progress. Omnipresent broadband, high-speed rail networks, a Norman Foster-designed building and leaf-patterned lattés all turn up in the most unexpected of places. And then there’s Buenos Aires, a grand, dirty, proud, vain courtesan of a city, pulsing with an energy that is both the ...

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Home Hotel

Anonymous review by Simon Westcott, Travellerati head honcho

It’s hard to go anywhere today without being slapped in the face by that big wet fish called progress. Omnipresent broadband, high-speed rail networks, a Norman Foster-designed building and leaf-patterned lattés all turn up in the most unexpected of places. And then there’s Buenos Aires, a grand, dirty, proud, vain courtesan of a city, pulsing with an energy that is both the opposite of progress – a long and glorious decline – and its nemesis, a force resolutely itself and somehow disinterested in the trappings of soulless modernity. It’s the urban equivalent of the Duracell Bunny; you suspect it will fall over at some point, but it’s doing a mighty good job at keeping going.

Fittingly, Mr Smith and I experience the Argentine capital through the prism of an equally self-assured and eclectically stylish bolthole, Home Hotel, tucked away in the smart, laid-back suburb of Palermo Hollywood. Buenos Aires street lights give off a Soviet-era low glow, so our taxi passes the unassuming, ivy-clad concrete entrance before we realise. Inside, it’s impossible to miss the hotel’s seductive charms. Spindly cream-leathered Swedish sofas jostle with long-necked silver Arco lamps, colourful Fifties glass vases and white Saarinen Tulip chairs in a graceful tumult of retro chic. And with its bold vintage floral wallpaper and shag pile rug, our expansive first-floor bedroom picks up the old-new song and belts it even louder. Fresh off the 15-hour transpacific flight, we scurry out for a quick neighbourhood dinner – darting like locals across the huge, unfenced rail lines that cut through the suburban streets. Later, we crash out to the conversational barks of barrio dogs through open windows.

Jetlag usefully recalibrates our body clocks to Buenos Aires time overnight, delaying our delicious huevos rancheros from breakfast until brunch, and we don’t hit the streets until early afternoon. We kick off, as one-time devotees of the cult of Lloyd Webber, with a stroll to famous La Recoleta Cemetery, and the grave of plucky, despotic Eva Peron, where we pay our ironic respects alongside gum-smacking backpackers and native fans. Then it’s a jump in a taxi to San Telmo and the end of the famous antique market, where stalls of rococo tat jostle with trendy gentlemen’s outfitters; we toy with the idea of velvet Argentine polo jackets, but think better of it.

Next we catch some obligatory tango; we’re lucky enough to be in town during the World Tango Championships, and lap up the regional heats at a packed theatre. Strangely, competitors include a whimsical Australian couple seemingly straight out of Strictly Ballroom: a haughty Western Districts grandmother dancing with an ill-matched, cheap-suited man with a Woodstock ponytail. We cheer nevertheless. The day finishes in classic Argentine style – gnawing at the succulent ribs of a dead cow aromatically grilled on an iconic South American parrilla, and swilling down a bottle of smoothly robust local malbec.

Unsurprisingly, we wake even later the next morning, and ache all over from our rapacious culture-vulturing and taste for home-grown vino. Time for a massage, and the curative touch of Luis, in-house masseur and all-round body shaman. There’s something very indulgent about Home Hotel having its own small-but-extensive spa tucked away in the basement; the property is intimate enough without having half its impossibly attractive guests wandering about in white robes. Afterwards, we savour a hair-of-the-dog Home bloody mary and green martini, along with some delicious tortillas and meatball tapas at the bar. Then, with a wistful backwards glance at the leaf-strewn garden and pool area – why didn’t we come in summer and does this hotel have everything? – we get back on the sightseeing horse, and trot at a more relaxed pace around a couple of galleries, theatrical bookstore El Ateneo, and the old cathedrals, churches and set-piece city squares of Buenos Aires’ downtown heart.

Our grand coda has been planned months in advance – a rare concert by virtuoso pianist Andràs Schiff at the Teatro Colón, still one of the world’s great performance venues. Perched in our aristocratic box above the fur-clad and plastic-surgeried high-society porteños below, we get a perfect snapshot of Argentina’s former glories and current nostalgias.

An economist friend once told me that, at the beginning of the last century, Argentina and the US shared the same population size and GDP; it was a textbook case, he said, of ‘the effectiveness of free-market capitalism and the dysfunction of corrupt oligarchies.’ Whatever. All we know, wrapped in the sublime sounds of Beethoven and Chopin, and the vainglorious colonial opulence of the horseshoe-shaped theatre, is that it makes for a damn sexy time warp. Progress, we surmise, is overrated.

The Guestbook

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