Capsule Hotels, four of them

It starts with two small English words for the same modest idea. The chain built its name by pushing cabin and inn together until they shared a letter, and the Copenhagen houses carry that word as the group's name rather than as anything drawn from the city, the harbour or the street outside.

The word itself is a blend, and the seam is visible: a cabin is a small room, an inn is a place to sleep, and the compound promises exactly the size of thing it delivers. The construction is a trade name rather than a word with a history, which is unusual in this guide and worth saying plainly.

On the ground it is heard as a category rather than as a single building, because the group keeps several addresses in the city. Danes say the word and then name a district, and the district is the part that actually locates you.

Worth knowing before you write to them: this is one address of a chain, so name the district too.

Source opened · February 2028

It starts with a word borrowed from the shape of a thing rather than from a place. The group took pod as the name of its format, describing a compact room instead of a location, and the Brooklyn house adds a borough to that word, which is the only part of the name tied to the ground.

The word itself is ordinary English, used for a small enclosed container long before anyone slept in one, and here it is applied to a room rather than to a seed or a vessel. The choice is a description of format, and published material presents it that way rather than as anything with a local story behind it.

On the ground it is the borough that does the work in conversation, because the format word is shared across several houses. New Yorkers name the neighbourhood first, and the brand is treated as a size rather than as an address.

Worth knowing before you write to them: this is one address of a chain, and the borough half locates you.

Source opened · March 2028

It starts with a length of time rather than with a word. The group named itself after the span it says a night in one of its rooms takes, counted from arrival to leaving, and the Osaka house adds a district name to that count, which is the only part of the name attached to a street.

The word itself is a number and a unit, written out in lower case, and the group explains it as the sum of the parts of a stay rather than as a poetic figure. Kitashinchi is the district, added to tell one house from another. Nothing beyond that arithmetic is claimed, and nothing beyond it is claimed here.

On the ground it is the district that Osaka residents use, since the group keeps houses in several cities and several parts of this one. The counted name is understood as a promise about length of stay rather than as a place.

Worth knowing before you write to them: this is one address of a chain, and the district separates it from others.

Source opened · April 2028

It starts with a description of what happens in the room. The name puts sleeping and flying side by side, which is the whole of the transaction in an airport rest area, and the words come from the service rather than from Doha, the terminal or anything that stood on the ground before the airport did.

The word itself is two English verbs joined by a shortened and, arranged so that the phrase reads as an instruction. Lounge is added to say what kind of room it is. There is no older word underneath, which makes this the plainest name in the guide, and we say so rather than looking for depth.

On the ground it is used as a facility rather than as a hotel, and travellers describe it by the concourse it sits on. Staff at the terminal answer to the function before the brand, so asking for somewhere to sleep works as well as asking by name.

Worth knowing before you write to them: this is one chain address inside a terminal, so name the concourse.

Source opened · May 2028