In 2009, we bid farewell to Copenhagen, armed with a business plan for a small hotel that had been percolating in our minds since returning from our global odyssey in 2001.
We were complete novices in the hotel industry. However, our extensive travels had exposed us to approximately 2,000 hotels worldwide, giving us a clear vision of what we cherished. Our hearts were captured by hidden gems like Helga’s Foley in Kandy, Sri Lanka; Xavier’s Country House in Chulumani, Bolivia; and Aurora Inn – Chez Sylvie in Yangon, Myanmar. These establishments, along with a select few others, earned their place on our coveted list of favorite accommodations globally.
What set these places apart wasn’t their star rating, but rather their unique blend of attitude, charm, ambiance, location, and essential services that resonated with us. Above all, it was the remarkable individuals we encountered at these establishments that left the most lasting impression.
This human element is what truly matters to us – not the official star ratings that are mandatory for opening a hotel in Lisbon.
I was lounging in my bed at a nondescript Bangkok hotel, laptop balanced precariously as I worked, when I stumbled upon a CNBC article about global hotel star rating systems. The irony wasn’t lost on me as I reflected on our own misadventures with these often meaningless classifications.
Our first brush with hotel bureaucracy came in 2009 when we set out to establish Tings Guest House in Nepal. The Ministry of Tourism, in its infinite wisdom, decreed that only “hotels” could be run by foreigners. Unfazed, we simply rebranded to “Tings Kathmandu,” knowing our guests would inevitably use the shorter moniker anyway.
Obtaining a license seemed straightforward enough – submit a business plan for approval. Perfect! With our background in crafting such documents, including our recent one for Tings, we thought we were set. Oh, how naive we were.
“No, no sir,” the office bureaucrat intoned, pulling a pre-written template from his drawer. This boilerplate plan, conveniently drafted in Nepali, was apparently the only acceptable format. And wouldn’t you know it? Our helpful civil servant had a thriving side hustle creating these plans for clueless foreigners like us who couldn’t read or write Nepali. For a “small fee,” of course.
Years later, we discovered the true extent of this farce. The document Annette had unwittingly signed wasn’t even for a hospitality business – it was for some entirely unrelated venture. And there she was, listed as CEO of a company she knew nothing about.
As I chuckled at the memory, I couldn’t help but wonder: in a world where a 3-star Venetian hotel might outshine a 5-star Bangkok establishment, and where official ratings can vary wildly between countries, perhaps it’s time we travelers relied less on stars and more on our own research and instincts.
No hotel in Lisbon without an official star!
Our second encounter with hotel bureaucracy unfolded in Lisbon, arguably Europe’s most hyped city when we embarked on our venture in 2015.
We began by probing the hospitality circles: “Forget it!” they unanimously declared when we inquired about obtaining a Hotel License. “Too complicated, too bureaucratic, too expensive,” they warned. Instead, they steered us towards a Hostel or Alojamento Local (AL) license, promising a swift business setup within a week.
The thought of sleeping in bunk beds amidst a symphony of snores and other bodily sounds was far from appealing. And with AL’s nine-room limit, profitability seemed elusive. Some suggested we skirt the rules by establishing two ALs, leveraging our building’s multiple entrances. But we weren’t interested in bending the law.
In Portugal, operating a hotel requires compliance with an outdated star rating system, which varies significantly across countries. While the U.S. system is managed by Forbes Travel Guide, Australia’s by the Australian Auto Club, the UK’s by the Automobile Association, and most of Europe’s by the European Hotel Stars Union, Portugal’s system is uniquely overseen by a private non-profit entity: the Portuguese Hoteliers Association (AHP).
The most frustrating aspect is that this system is often run by civil servants or semi-retired industry professionals who lack international travel experience. For many hoteliers, it feels like a “take it or leave it” situation—outdated or not, compliance is mandatory to obtain a star rating.

Tings Lisbon only has only one star. But We have garden, river view, one of the best breakfasts in town and the best viewpoint next door.
Without AHP’s blessing, no hotel can exist in Lisbon. The number of stars you receive depends on how many boxes you can tick on AHP’s exhaustive lists of services and facilities.
In theory, this system seems fair enough. However, many of these required amenities are either outdated, irrelevant, or both. Drawing from our extensive globetrotting experience, we had a clear vision of what our target travelers truly desired. Bidets, TVs, laundry service, and cable telephones didn’t make the cut.
Our focus is on charm and ambiance, coupled with the most crucial conveniences we’d encountered in five-star establishments during our business travels. We also incorporated a few special touches inspired by smaller, memorable lodgings. Sadly, none of this mattered in the eyes of AHP.
Our thoughtful additions – a cozy guest kitchen for traveling foodies to whip up light meals from local market finds, luxurious 100% cotton bed linens and down duvets, homemade bread – these valuable amenities, in our opinion, had zero impact on our star rating.
But all of this turned out to be utterly irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.
You see, Tings Lisbon spans more than two floors. According to AHP’s rigid rules, hotels exceeding two stories MUST have an elevator to qualify for more than one star – on top of Lisbon Highest Hill!!!!!
And that, dear readers, is why Tings Lisbon proudly boasts a single star.
We wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thomas & Annette