In Dana Brown's memoir, Dilettante: True Tales of Excess, Triumph, and Disaster – an account of his twenty-five years at Vanity Fair under Graydon Carter – the part that stayed with me most was where his story begins: working the bar at 44, the restaurant in the lobby of Ian Schrager’s legendary Royalton Hotel.
The room functioned as the Condé Nast canteen, the place where the New York magazine world gathered to see and be seen over lunch. Schrager had built it using everything he had learned from running Studio 54.
As someone who has made a living in publishing, it’s an era I envy and mourn in equal measure. A world I was too young and too far away to ever be part of. Schrager’s genius was treating hotels as social destinations rather than places to sleep between meetings.
In Sydney, The EVE Hotel is the closest thing I’ve encountered to what I imagine the Royalton must have felt like. Countless new hotels have tried, and failed, to manufacture a vibe. The EVE feels less designed than discovered, as if the scene arrived before the branding did.
When The EVE opened in early 2025, I thought the pricing was ambitious. Perhaps that’s my prejudice against the boutique hotel concept, which has come to mean a desperate attempt at low-cost style dressed up as personality: endless bouclé furniture, scalloped cabinetry, poorly imitated art, soulless hospitality spaces, kitsch messaging on Do Not Disturb signs, that sort of thing.
Refreshingly, The EVE bucks that trend. I sensed it the moment I walked through the door. Dinner at Lottie later that evening – a thumping room serving intriguing Mexican dishes alongside stellar cocktails – confirmed that my scepticism had been misplaced. The price is spot on for a fantastic stay in a unique Sydney setting.
So why should you actually stay here?
If you are the type of guest who enjoys checking into a hotel and never leaving, The EVE has got to be one of the best choices in Sydney right now.
The hotel sits at the heart of the Wunderlich Lane precinct, on the seam of Redfern and Surry Hills. There’s a Harris Farm downstairs, and an abundance of coffee and food options within steps. A lift to the rooftop reveals a 20-metre rooftop pool, framed by palm trees and finished in imported Sukabumi tiles with private cabanas down one side – a bit of a Moroccan oasis in the heart of Sydney. Weather permitting, of course.
If you value hospitality, design, and thoughtful details, there’s a good chance The EVE will become your favourite hotel in Sydney. For comparison’s sake, it is a considerable step up from Ovolo and QT, and the rooms are far more tasteful than those at Crown, while blowing the incumbents like InterContinental, Langham, Sheraton, and Sofitel out of the water.
The EVE succeeds where many new hotels struggle: it has a distinct point of view, and the confidence to carry it through every part of the guest experience.
What’s the vibe?
Inviting and immaculate.
Staff are engaged, the public spaces are lively but not overdone, and the design expertly strikes a balance between trend and timelessness.
Deep red tiles blend with vivid blue furnishings, breezeblocks and bagged walls. Henry Wilson sconces share the space with sculptures and art, while a bespoke Saardé scent fills the corridors. Every detail feels intentional.
The hospitality spaces, Bar Julius on the Baptist Street entrance and Olympus Dining, which can be entered directly from the hotel, gather their own crowd in the day, and at night, Lottie comes alive.
When we returned to the hotel at 10.30 on Saturday night, Bar Julius was absolutely heaving with punters enjoying cocktails and food; so they’re obviously doing it right. There seems to be just the right amount of people transitioning through and enjoying the hotel, giving it energy without being overwhelming.
As a former resident of both Surry Hills and Redfern, I’ve watched the precinct reinvigorate a rather grim corner of the neighbourhood.
It’s a huge step in the right direction for a pocket that’s now home to Island Radio and its Southeast Asian plates, Vitelli’s Upstairs with its Italian bites and cocktails, and Regina’s hangover-melting diavola pizzas.
In short, the precinct is bustling in exactly the right way. It gives The EVE a sense of momentum and relevance that many hotels spend millions trying to manufacture.
And the rooms?
This is where my boutique theory came apart. There are 102 rooms, designed by SJB, and they provide the substance I had assumed would be missing. The palette is drawn from both the natural and man-made Australian landscape – eucalyptus greens, clay and ochre tones, travertine underfoot, curved oak joinery, and streamlined brickwork.
The effect is reminiscent of Redfern’s weathered terraces, softened by the mature planting that wraps around the courtyard. It reads expensive without feeling ostentatious.
The shower is capacious, curving around you with dark green tiles and stone, while the Saardé amenities are aesthetically and emotionally pleasing.
As someone who enjoys inspecting new hotels for evidence of corners being cut, I came up largely empty-handed. Instead, I found Frette linen on the bed, lovely stationery, and a minibar stocked with local treats.
We stayed in a Sunset Balcony room, facing west, with a courtyard terrace that would be a very fun spot for a nightcap with friends. However, being on the ground floor, there was a bit of noise, including the classic pre-dawn vacuuming of the hallway.
And the control panels for the lights and curtains located on either side of the bed glow far too bright for those who prefer to sleep in total darkness. Still, these are minor complaints in a room that otherwise demonstrates remarkable restraint.
How’s the food?
Lottie is the showpiece: a rooftop Mexican restaurant and mezcaleria from chef Alejandro Huerta. The menu is different in a fascinating way, presenting ingredients and flavour combinations many diners are unlikely to have tried before. But don’t worry, the staff are happy to run you through it all in detail.
The pumpkin flauta with black garlic and pepita miso arrives as a cannoli-style creation, packed with flavour and texture, while the beetroot empanada is a glorious riff on a more familiar favourite. The Marg-no-rita, a non-alcoholic marg, is reason enough to visit.
Back at ground level, Bar Julius accommodates guests for breakfast, and while the surrounding art collection is bountiful, the menu feels comparatively conservative, particularly if you’re staying for more than a night or two.
Our B&E roll arrived on a bun so soft it failed to transport the contents from plate to mouth. By the second morning, I found myself wishing for something with a little more imagination; perhaps a shakshuka or a Lottie-inspired take on huevos rancheros. Fortunately, the coffee is worthy of the postcode.
No stay at The EVE is complete without a meal at Olympus Dining, and you’ll be grateful you have the room to roll back to after gourmandising on taramasalata. The space itself adds a certain theatre to the meal, especially if you nab a table beneath the fifty-year-old bougainvillaea.
The service is warm and generous, matched by portions that are extremely abundant. The spanakopita alone could comfortably satisfy four people. We were particularly taken by a recommendation from the wine list: Papagiannakos Retsina, a Greek table wine with distinctive aromas of pine and a subtle resinous character. Better still, it happens to be one of the least expensive glasses on the menu, a rarity that deserves recognition.
Getting there and getting around
The EVE sits at 8 Baptist Street, which is essentially the corner of Cleveland and Baptist. One of its great advantages is its proximity to both the CBD and the airport. The light rail is a short stroll down Crown Street, while the domestic terminal is roughly 15 minutes by Uber outside peak hour.
Any other tips?
Take some time to view the impressive art collection in Bar Julius and the foyer. You’ll discover works from a handful of celebrated Australian artists, including Robert Dickerson, McLean Edwards, Tarryn Gill and Louise Olsen, among others. And if you’re a light sleeper, request a room away from the lift servicing Lottie to avoid some of the noise from merry riff-raff entering and leaving the restaurant.
The bottom line: is it worth it?
When The EVE opened, my first reaction was that the rates felt ambitious for a boutique hotel in Redfern. Having stayed there, I think I was wrong. The keyword in The EVE’s positioning isn’t boutique; it’s luxury. Unlike many hotels that borrow the language of luxury without delivering the substance, The EVE earns the label. From the design and service to the dining and public spaces, there is a consistency of execution that suggests very little has been value-engineered out of the experience.
Rooms start at around $500 a night and climb considerably higher for suites. That’s not inexpensive, but neither is Sydney anymore. What you get is a hotel that actually looks and feels like no expense has been spared, at the centre of one of the few new precincts in the city with a real pulse.
For somewhere that feels alive, this is now the best argument in Sydney away from the water. We would go back in a heartbeat.
