Welcome to One Night In, a series about staying in the most unparalleled places available to rest your head.

Despite living in Texas for over a decade and visiting Houston often, until this spring, I had never driven the extra hour to Galveston, a barrier island city with 32 miles of coastline that in recent years has experienced a massive tourism boom. After seeing several Instagram stories over the winter of various friends staying at a recently renovated motor lodge there called Hotel Lucine, I decided to add a detour on an East Texas road trip I had planned for early April. The more I dug into the hotel’s history, the more intrigued I got.

Built in 1963, the two-story structure, originally the Treasure Isle Motel, is the city’s longest-standing motor court—the last remnant from a generation of midcentury motor lodges that once flourished along the island’s eastern Seawall Boulevard. When hospitality developer Dave Jacoby, his wife, Galveston native Keath, and their friend, Texas real estate developer Robert Marcus, bought the structure in 2021, it was operating as the Pearl Inn, and had seen better days. Austin firm Kartwheel Studio took on the two-year renovation, gutting the courtyard pool area and the majority of the interior, then adding the rooftop bar and overhauling the spaces with a beachy, midcentury Palm Springsesque look that, these days, characterizes many a motel—or motel-inspired—makeover.

Though the updated look definitely caters to the Instagram crowd—its tiled courtyard pool and surrounding zigzag with colorful soffits make a great photo backdrop—the 61-room boutique hotel actually manages to stand out in Galveston’s crowded hospitality landscape made up of mostly budget chains and high-end resorts, with not a ton in between. Hotel Lucine—named as a reference to the rounded seashell with a pearlescent inner side—has a laid-back vibe but doesn’t scrap on design, and it’s also in a quieter, more residential stretch away from the busy boardwalk crowds. Wanting to see how it weighs up IRL vs. on Instagram, I reached out to the hotel to see if they would host me for a press visit, and luckily, they had early April availability to coincide with the start of my road trip.

Tuesday

3 p.m.: After battling post-eclipse traffic from Austin and looming stormy weather, I arrive in Galveston just in time for check-in. There’s ample parking around the hotel’s low-slung, white-brick exterior and in a snug lot designated for guests. (The nearby street parking is zoned residential.)

The reception desk is adjacent to The Den, the all-day eating and gathering space that looks how I’d imagine a well-paid but unshowy friend’s immaculate beach house might be laid out. There’s a wall of large porthole windows facing the ocean and a sisal carpet grounding a hodgepodge of seating options in blue, beige, and brown tones, including two wooden couches with upholstered padding in different patterns and swivel tub armchairs positioned around a pair of geometric wooden coffee tables. On another side of the room, there’s a gallery wall of paintings, drawings, and block prints made by local and regional artists, all for sale.

I head upstairs to my double queen balcony room. A built-in, dark-brown leather upholstered headboard stretches across the wall behind the two wooden platform beds, with three pendant lights mounted above. (The beds, like most of the hotel’s furniture, are handmade.) The floor-length, banana leaf–patterned curtains over the door to the balcony feel expected, but fun. Checkered ochre-and-coral red accent pillows and the aqua platform peeking out from under the mattresses add a pop of color to the otherwise neutral-toned room. My phone is dying, so finding an outlet is my top priority—an easy task, as the room has more outlets than any hotel I’ve visited. Next to each bed alone, there are two wall plugs and two USB ports. I leave my phone charging under the flat-screen TV on a wall-mounted hunk of wood that doubles as a display shelf and a desk, thanks to a padded stool underneath.

I walk onto the balcony; the rooftop eave’s underside is one of my favorite colors: teal. The below courtyard pool area has blue-and-white concrete tiles arranged in a diamond pattern that owner Keath Jacoby tells me are sourced from a family-owned business in Granada, Nicaragua. Seafoam green lounge chairs and yellow umbrellas with white stripes and fringed edges are neatly oriented around the pool’s perimeter, facing toward the star attraction: the hotel’s name spelled out in tile on the pool floor. When I go inside to change into my bikini, I notice the pink bathroom wall tile, a little character holdover from the original 1960s motor court’s interiors.

3:30 p.m.: Since spring weather in Texas is notoriously fickle, pool time is my priority. The pool’s depth is shallow, ranging from three to four-and-a-half feet, with a concrete seating ledge built into the length of one side and across the deep end—perfect for lounging. I perch on the bench toward the shallow end and am instantly grateful the water is heated year-round. I pull out my phone to peruse the list of local favorites on Hotel Lucine’s website for restaurant, shopping, and activity suggestions.

4:30 p.m.: I drive downtown to explore Galveston’s Postoffice District, famous for a series of restored historic buildings in Victorian, Italianate, and Greek Revival styles, including the National Register of Historic Places–listed Grand 1894 Opera House, a Romanesque Revival landmark known as “the official opera house of Texas.” Ice cream cone in hand, I window-shop at some of the area’s boutiques, cafes, and antique shops, then drive west along the 10.3-mile Seawall Boulevard—the country’s longest continuous sidewalk—to a more touristy area with an overwater amusement park and a strip of chain hotels followed by resorts with conference centers. Hotel Lucine is only a few blocks away, but it feels a world apart.

6 p.m.: The ocean breeze is steady as I walk up the stairs to Hotel Lucine’s 3,500-square-foot rooftop bar, which is the largest in town and has 180-degree views out to the Gulf Ocean just across the street. The patio has plenty of wooden tables encircled with muted-pink metal barstools, green-cushioned benches, and low-slung wooden loungers with woven seats where I could settle, but I opt for the air-conditioned indoor bar, which has a solid beer list, almost entirely comprised of Texas brews. I normally drink beer, but a French rosé catches my eye. I choose a seat in the corner away from the group of 15 people who just arrived to enjoy my wine in solitude.

7 p.m.: I leave the rooftop for my reservation downstairs at The Fancy, an “American fine-ish dining” dinner-only spot that fuses French flavors with local ingredients. The culinary program is run by experienced Houston chef Leila Ortiz, one of the hotel’s all-female executive team. With its custom mahogany tables, chairs, and bar stools that match the paneled ceilings and some wall panels, the 55-person dining room has the feel of an upscale tavern. White-and-blue bar tiles and pendant lights bring in the midcentury and nautical vibes.

About a dozen people are seated at six other tables in the restaurant, but the atmosphere still feels welcoming for a solo diner. My server recommends the snapper and chicken dishes. I choose the latter—a quarter roasted chicken served with dumplings in a brown butter sauce that’s so delicious I consider licking my plate. The desserts rotate nightly and one of my favorites is on offer: panna cotta topped with agave syrup and a candied orange slice.

9 p.m.: I walk into The Den for a nightcap and am surprised to see a familiar face, a sea captain friend who I worked with in the Mediterranean for the last two summers. He recently bought a house in Galveston and is here to show a friend Hotel Lucine’s rooftop bar, proof that the spot is becoming a popular local hangout, too. (It offers pool day passes for non-guests.) I consider their bar-hopping invitation, but instead order another glass of rosé, then enjoy it in one of the cozy corner chairs and call it a night.

Wednesday

7:30 a.m.: I reluctantly drag myself out of bed after the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. Late-night storms lulled me to dreamland. When I walk out on my balcony, the sun is peeking through the clouds, the perfect weather for a sunrise beach walk. There’s a crosswalk directly outside the hotel’s front door, so the trip is quick. A chorus of gulls and roaring waves provide the soundtrack for my jaunt down the wide stretch of sand. Except for two tiny figures in the distance, I have the place to myself.

8:45 a.m.: The Den is bustling when I slide into a back booth and pull out my laptop to respond to a few emails. The small breakfast menu is an intriguing mix of savory and sweet—overnight oats and a griddled blueberry muffin topped with chicken liver mousse. Torn between the breakfast tacos and the cheesy egg sandwich, the homemade pickles sell me on the latter. It arrives overflowing with a large portion of eggs, cheese, and garlic aioli. (Of course, I added avocado.) The homemade blueberry muffin (I ordered it sans mousse) is perfection—a slightly crisp outside with a light, fluffy interior.

10 a.m.: While loading my car, I overhear the receptionist tell a guest they can use the pool after the standard 11 a.m. checkout. I feel a tinge of jealousy, but have too far to drive toward my next stop to stay longer. Plus, I can always come back—and after my quick stay here, I feel confident I’ll want to. Galveston isn’t a cookie-cutter beach destination—it has sleek and rough edges, but it shines in certain places, just like the lucine shell and the hotel named after it.

Top photo by Johanna Andruchovici, courtesy Hotel Lucine

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