This hotel is why three-star stays rule in Europe’s top cities
I have a dirty little travel secret: I really don’t like staying in five-star, branded chain hotels. Sure, they deliver on luxury, but they often leave me feeling cold.
December 29, 2025 — 5:00am
I have a dirty little travel secret: I really don’t like staying in five-star, branded chain hotels. Sure, they deliver on luxury, but they often leave me feeling cold. Instead, give me a family-run, owner-operated three- or four-star hotel any day of the week.
The trouble is, good family-owned hotels can be hard to find – especially in popular tourist cities such as Seville, Spain. Enter Hotel Becquer, located less than a block from the river and a 10-minute walk to the iconic Seville Cathedral.
The entrance to Hotel Becquer in Seville, Spain.
Founded in 1973, Hotel Becquer is run by the fifth generation of the Martinez Fonseca family, who have managed hotels in Seville since the 1920s. But the Becquer’s history goes back further; it was the 19th-century palace house of the Marquises of Torres de la Presa, a Spanish noble title.
I check in on the final day of my trip on the Al Andalus Train, a seven-day luxury trip across Andalusia. After a morning visiting the Alcazar palace, I’m lucky enough to stay at the Hotel Becquer just a month after its renovation, which emphasised using recycled materials and implemented energy-saving systems. They’ve also avoided hiking up the price.
I’m staying in a deluxe room with a balcony. The design is contemporary and understated: there’s a smart TV, coffee maker, bathroom with double vanity and a king-size bed that I could happily collapse into after a whirlwind few days, were it not for my plan to meet friends later. To ensure I don’t crash, I go to the rooftop pool.
The hotel features local touches throughout.
The entire rooftop is packed: every sun lounger is occupied, and everybody else is in the pool. The view stretches across the rooftops to the cathedral, but with my swimmers downstairs and the temperature punching past 43 degrees, I retreat to the air-con.
Among the traits that set a family owned and operated hotel apart from the pack are the feel of the place and the obvious pride taken in their hometown. On my floor, there is a display of typical Andalusian tiles by the lift, with explanations in Spanish and English. A cabinet in the lobby features the black felt sombrero cordobes worn by men and the pericon, the delicate fans used by women, alongside a flamenco guitar.
Breakfast is this hotel’s secret weapon, leaning heavily into regional specialities. Seville is famous for its oranges, and there are two machines pumping out fresh juice at the push of a button. Andalusia is one of the world’s biggest producers of olive oil, and there’s an olive oil tasting station.
There’s a basket of crisp _tortas de aceit_e from the famous 115-year-old Sevillian bakery Ines Rosales, each hand wrapped in their blue and white transparent wax paper. Platters of jamon serrano, Spanish tortilla and platters of seven types of home-cooked cookies, cake and fried pastry complement the usual buffet spread