We currently have a couple of motel refurbishments in the studio, although I prefer to think of them as part of the Great Motel Renaissance. And while I have been immersed in this very specific pocket of Australian nostalgia, I have learned a thing or two. Motels have wriggled their way into my heart. They are stubborn, enduring little things, and I say that with absolute affection.

In a world that worships at the altar of “boutique hotels,” rooftop pools, and the kind of minibar that requires a mortgage broker, it seems timely to pause and remember the humble Aussie motel. You know the one, two storeys if it is feeling fancy, a row of brightly painted doors, a pool out the back (with water varying somewhere between turquoise and pea soup), and the holy grail of convenience, parking right outside your room.

The Origins: From Orange to Everywhere

The Australian motel was born in the 1950s, inspired by America’s motor courts. Entrepreneur Hugh McCarron came back from the States and opened the Bellair Drive in Motel in Orange, NSW, in 1955. It had a carport outside every room and heating, practically intergalactic technology at the time. It worked so well that motels began popping up like mushrooms along highways and in coastal towns.

By the late seventies, the motel was in its pomp. Swimming pools, colour televisions, spa baths, even waterbeds in the more daring establishments. They became the backbone of the Great Australian Road Trip. Pack the Holden, drive until Dad’s temper snapped, then swing into the nearest neon lit vacancy sign.

Why We Loved Them

Motels suited Australians down to the tarmac. They were democratic. The truckie, the family of six, and the newlyweds on a budget could all end up next door to one another, separated only by a thin wall and a louder than necessary kettle.

There was ritual to it, pulling into a gravel carpark at dusk, a friendly owner emerging from behind a glass partition at reception, the clatter of the key fob (always large enough to double as a weapon), and the sense of relief that came with knowing you would be horizontal within five minutes.

And then there was the pool. Always colder than expected, always packed with kids who had been cooped up in the back seat for nine hours. It was bliss.

The Numbers Behind the Nostalgia

Today, motels are still very much alive. Across Australia, there are about 3,500 motels offering 86,000 rooms. Roughly a third of those are in coastal towns, from the Gold Coast to the Great Ocean Road, proving that the seaside motel is still part of our national DNA.

New South Wales leads the pack, with nearly 70 per cent more motels than Queensland. No surprise really, with Sydney at the hub, and highways spinning off like spokes, NSW motels have long caught the spillover of holidaymakers making a break for the coast.

And while boutique hotels hog the glossy magazine spreads, motels quietly underpin regional tourism. They are often the only accommodation in smaller towns, supporting local pubs, cafes, and petrol stations. They are part of the economic scaffolding of regional Australia.

The Boutique Revival

Here is the fun part, the motel is back. Not in the formica tables and scratchy blankets way, but in a reimagined, design led way.

These are not just places to sleep. They are destinations, Instagram backdrops, and most importantly, they keep the bones of the motel intact. One or two storeys, parking outside, an honest sense of place. They have been dressed up, but they have not lost their soul.

Why Motels Matter

Motels represent freedom. They are the punctuation marks on a sentence that stretches across a continent. They let you be spontaneous, drive until you are tired, pull in, sleep, repeat. No need for an app or an itinerary. Just the road, the car, and the friendly glow of VACANCY.

In our rush towards the boutique and the curated, it is worth remembering that not all travel needs to be polished within an inch of its life. Sometimes the joy lies in the simple things, the hiss of a kettle, the clang of a key, the splash of a too cold pool.

How Motels Can Flex in Ways Hotels Cannot

The beauty of the motel is its nimbleness. Where hotels are bound by layers of structure, motels can improvise, surprise, and connect.

Motel trails: Team up with sister motels along a highway or coast to offer “stay three, get the fourth half off” style deals. Guests stay in your ecosystem, not the competitor’s.
Micro surprises: A welcome bag with local snacks, a Polaroid taken under the motel sign, or a jug of cold water left in the room on a hot afternoon. Little acts that carry outsized charm.
Local passports: Partner with nearby cafes, surf schools, or galleries so flashing a motel key gets guests a small discount. It roots the guest in the community and makes the motel memorable.
Flexible stays: Offer nap rates, late check outs, or a “sleep now, roll later” package with breakfast included. Motels can pivot like this, big hotels cannot.
Memory anchors: Send guests home with something to remember, a fridge magnet in retro motel style, a packet of wildflower seeds, or a handwritten postcard. It costs next to nothing but creates lasting loyalty.

Conclusion, Long Live the Motel

So here is to the humble motel. To the brick facades, the neon signs, the gravel car parks. To the families who owned them, lived in them, and kept them running through boom and bust. To the generations of Australians who made their road trip memories within their walls.

The motel is not a relic. It is a survivor. And now, with a little creativity and a lot of affection, it is becoming something new, the boutique motel, equal parts nostalgia and novelty.

Next time you are tempted to book a tower hotel, consider the motel instead. You might just rediscover a piece of Australia’s story, and sleep better knowing you have pulled into a tradition as enduring as the road itself.

A Love Letter to the Humble Motel