BLANCHE DUBOIS may have relied on the kindness of strangers, but I don’t have enough vacation days to leave anything to chance. So a few times a year I pay more than I can afford for a faithful facsimile of affection at a hotel. Sometimes, but rarely, the experience transcends mere hospitality and I fall in love. I can count on one hand the hotels that wormed their way into my heart soon after I first arrived and began calling me back not long after I’d left. When that happens, I do the only thing that makes sense: I return again and again.
I...