There’s a kind of unspoken ritual that plays out in hotel rooms all over the world. You check in with a polite nod and a wheeled suitcase. You bounce once on the bed. You test the water pressure, peek at the minibar prices, and take inventory of the complimentary items like a raccoon rummaging in a new habitat.
And then, somewhere between your morning Nespresso and your checkout dash, the great hotel room exchange begins.
Because let’s be honest: we all leave a little bit of ourselves behind in hotel rooms—and we often take a little something, too.
The Global Swipe: What We “Borrow”
Slippers? Fair game. Tiny sewing kits? Somehow always useful, never used. Pens and notepads? Practically expected.
In fact, a 2023 study from Wellness Heaven surveyed over 1,300 hoteliers across Europe and Asia and found the most commonly “borrowed” items globally are towels, batteries (from the remote!), pens, and bathrobes. Yes, bathrobes.
In Japan, slippers are the most frequently taken item—often considered a cultural keepsake by foreign travelers. In Italy, it’s those thick hotel towels. In the U.S., it’s all about the toiletries: “If I’m paying $400 a night,” said one anonymous guest, “you better believe I’m leaving with that Malin+Goetz shampoo.”
But it’s not just toiletries and textiles. One 5-star hotel in Munich reported the theft of a stuffed deer head from the lobby. In Paris, a guest once removed an antique doorknob. A boutique hotel in Toronto recalls someone sneaking out with a framed black-and-white photo—“which,” the concierge noted dryly, “was screwed into the wall.”
Hotels have responded in kind. Some now discreetly label their bathrobes with “available for purchase” tags. Others just build the loss into the business model. As one Bangkok hotelier put it, “We consider the pens and slippers to be souvenirs. The robes, less so.”
The Forgotten and the Bizarre
If what we steal says something about desire, what we forget says something about distraction.
Chargers, of course, top the list. According to Marriott’s lost-and-found records, nearly 35,000 phone chargers are left behind each month globally. Eyeglasses follow closely. And, oddly enough, teeth.
“One time, someone left their dentures in a drinking glass on the nightstand,” says Julia, a housekeeping manager at a luxury hotel in Buenos Aires. “We washed the glass. The teeth went to lost and found.”
There are more poetic abandonments too—love letters, handwritten journal pages, books with dog-eared pages. At a hotel in Istanbul, staff found a Polaroid of a couple kissing under the Hagia Sophia, scrawled with the words “Thanks for everything. Don’t follow me.”
Luggage left behind? Often accidental. But sometimes intentional. “People check out lighter,” says Peter, a bellhop in Sydney. “They leave the weight behind. Literally and metaphorically.”
The Unwritten Rules
Despite the mischief, there’s a kind of shared code among travelers. Shampoo? Go for it. The Egyptian cotton duvet cover? That’s pushing it.
Most hotels make a distinction between amenities (free for the taking) and inventory (please don’t). But even that line is blurry. Some chains now offer a “Take Me Home” program—where guests can purchase the exact robe, pillow, or scent from their stay. Sofitel, for example, sells its linens online. The Waldorf Astoria sells its signature mattresses.
“There’s an emotional memory attached to luxury,” says one hospitality consultant. “When someone loves a hotel stay, they want to take a piece of it with them.”
Check-Out Confessions
In an unscientific survey of Going Global readers, 72% admitted to taking something small from a hotel room. One reader copped to collecting branded pens from every hotel they’ve ever stayed in. Another once “accidentally” packed a plush bathrobe—only to feel guilty and mail it back weeks later.
The most surprising answer? A Singaporean traveler who claimed they left behind a breakup letter on hotel stationery in a room in Vienna. “I couldn’t bear to hand it over in person,” they said. “So I wrote it, left it on the desk, and walked away.”
The recipient, presumably, found love and a free bar of soap.
Final Turn-Down Service
Hotels are more than just places to sleep. They’re little theaters of human behavior—romantic, chaotic, indulgent, occasionally criminal. And somewhere between the slippers we swipe and the poems we forget in drawers, we leave our mark.
Because let’s face it: it’s never just a room.
By a global traveler with a slightly guilty conscience
