Hurkle-Durkling: The Latest Travel Trend and Where to Do It

A young couple relaxing on couch. Shutterstock

Hurkle-durkling rolls off the tongue like a Highland whisky and lingers like the warmth of a tartan blanket. This old Scottish gem, meaning to lounge lazily in bed, is poised to conquer 2025’s travel scene.

Forget sunrise hikes and meticulously packed itineraries, hurkle-durkling is the art of unapologetic idleness, perfected under crisp sheets and lofty duvets.

Social media darlings have thrust this pastime into the limelight, making a case for the kind of relaxation that turns “doing nothing” into an art form.

Hilton’s research confirms the rise of the hurkle-durkle devotee: one-fifth of global travellers have embraced the practice, but it’s the Zillennials (those cunning hybrids born between 1990 and 2000) who are the true champions, with 30 percent trading adrenaline for a morning of languid lounging.

Even the stoic Baby Boomers are getting in on the act, albeit at a modest 11 percent.

But where, you ask, should one indulge in such splendid inertia? Let me lead you to a selection of my favourite beds that have seduced even the most restless spirits.

The Mark Hotel, New York

An Australian navigating New York’s free-pour cocktail culture inevitably ends up bedridden, not with regret, but with an epiphany about the glories of a well-appointed boudoir.

The Mark’s bed is less a mattress and more an ethereal cloud that happens to support human anatomy. Once, you could summon designer boutiques straight to your Madison Avenue sanctuary, turning your hangover into a haute couture experience.

Food from Jean-Georges’ restaurant could be delivered bedside, though now, you might content yourself with a striped dog bed as a keepsake (yes, your furry friend can hurkle-durkle too).

And if you’re feeling especially flush, the $75,000-per-night penthouse offers a view so decadent it makes hurkle-durkling feel like a royal pastime.

The Four Seasons, Bora Bora

Yes, you can buy a Four Seasons mattress (a considerable consolation prize), but the view from their Bora Bora bungalows is decidedly non-transferable.

View from Four Seasons Bora Bora. Courtesy of Four Seasons

Imagine reclining in bed, sipping something tropical, while Mount Otemanu’s silhouette broods over the lagoon.

Through your floor, you’ll see a kaleidoscope of reef fish drifting lazily among coral gardens, mirroring your own leisurely state.

At night, the Tahitian sky twinkles as if in solidarity with your refusal to move an inch.

The Goring Hotel, London

If hurkle-durkling is the pursuit of idle pleasure, then The Goring is its grand temple.

From your plush bed, you can hear the gentle clop of hooves as riders from the Royal Parks pass by. Your room, an ode to sumptuous British eccentricity, features carpets so soft they could double as marshmallows, antique furniture polished to a gleam, and marble bathrooms the essence of indulgence.

The lighting panels, labelled “Bright” and the more tantalising “Oooh!” cater to every mood, from practical to romantically dim.

Royal pedigree seeps through the walls; Kate Middleton herself spent the last night of her unmarried life here, no doubt perfecting her own hurkle-durkle technique.

Teddy, the Shetland pony mascot, and Barbara the sheep (more commonly found on stationery and footstools) make quirky appearances, adding a touch of pastoral whimsy to this most regal of retreats.

Sowaka, Kyoto

What could be more indulgent than a cashmere mattress, a view of a tranquil Japanese garden, and a sliding screen to shroud yourself in poetic solitude?

The 14th-century Zen garden of Tenryu Temple is built around a pond. Waterfalls, stone bridges, and groups of rocks are carefully arranged to aid contemplation. Patrick Foto/Shutterstock

For a century, Sowaka was the epitome of Kyoto elegance, a high-end tea house where geishas glided and haikus practically wrote themselves in the air, their syllables mingling with the scent of matcha.

Now, this masterpiece of wooden corridors, sliding screens, and picture perfect gardens has been reborn as a ryokan. And not just any ryokan but one that pirouettes perfectly between the ancient and the modern, like a geisha donning AirPods.

Nestled in Gion, the temple-strewn beating heart of Kyoto, Sowaka shows its Sanskrit promise of “happiness” through every detail.

The entrance, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair, teases you with a split curtain that parts to reveal a lantern-lit path winding toward a genkan stone threshold.

Inside, it’s a tableau of serene contrasts: creaking wooden corridors that carry the echoes of another era, circular paper windows soft as moonlight, and walls of rustic plaster juxtaposed with sleek Nordic-inspired furniture.

The effect? Pure harmony, the kind that lulls you into staying in bed a little longer, maybe forever.

The Balmoral, Edinburgh

The Balmoral is a place where hurkle-durkling heightens mere lounging to an act of literary reverence.

Peer out from the J.K. Rowling Suite, and the view of Calton Hill pales in comparison to the knowledge that here, in this very bed, Rowling herself lounged (and likely hurkle-durkled) while conjuring the final chapters of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Surely, there’s no better excuse to wrap yourself in Gryffindor pyjamas, sip on a goblet of something vaguely butterbeer-ish, and fantasise about a world where Bertie Bott’s Beans are part of the breakfast buffet.

Entering the suite is an event in itself. You pass an owl-shaped door knocker that looks as if it might wink at you, slip by a marble bust of Hermes signed by Rowling, and find yourself in a sanctuary of quiet opulence.

The bed, a plush, king-sized affair that could double as the Sorting Hat’s private lair, beckons you with the promise of dreams so vivid they could rewrite the Wizarding World.

These holidays, Nicole is looking forward to a good hurkle-durkle with a rivetting book and a cup of tea, mastering the fine balance between quiet contentment and the occasional nap.