Hotels near Colonne di San Lorenzo, Milan

Big room for triple sharing. Clean and bright room. Location is good, near the train station and the food market. Convenient for travellers to commute in train and to go airport. Thank you.

The hotel room is clean and the breakfast is good!

Honestly, I was skeptical because there were no pictures or reviews prior to the time of the booking! But honestly my husband were pleasantly surprised!! Newly built so obviously in good condition. We had a corner room on the top floor that had a nice balcony. Shower with 2 heads with good water pressure. Some parts of the hotel were still working on construction so a bit busy, but besides that it's close to the station. The staff are lovely. The room itself was beautiful!! Definitely would come back!!

I stayed here in July with my friend. The hotel location is really convenient (5 mins walk to the main station). For two people the room size is good, amenities etc however at night it got really cold and spare duvets were not provided (had the AC on the entire night as my friend needed it). It would be useful for duvets to be stored in the cupboards already as we had to make a phone call around 2am for it which took a while to come. Reception staff were nice, stored our luggage and umbrellas were provided for the day.

Very clean and well kept, considerably new. It seems like quite a popular spot as we weren’t able to check in early when we arrived around 1 pm. I really like the washroom and it was very clean just like at home. The location is not bad, quite near the metro as well. However, I don’t think there are a lot of amenities. Would definitely rebook if I was to come back to Milan in the near future as the price was reasonable and I had a very good rest.

The location is good, it is near Naviglio Grande where is beautiful and many restaurants around. The staff are nice, they are very helpful to call taxi and even contact the hospital when my son was sick in one night. The cleaning staff is responsible and tidy the room good.

Nice hotel service and nice location. Near the train and the bus station. They call it the Eternal City. A phrase that feels almost trite until you stand alone, utterly dwarfed, beneath the Pantheon’s impossible dome, or trace your fingers over travertine worn smooth by two thousand years of passing hands. Rome isn’t just eternal; it’s immediate, visceral, a theatre of existence where the past isn’t preserved behind glass, but bleeds passionately into the vibrant, chaotic present. And experiencing it solo? That’s not loneliness; it’s liberation. It’s a conversation, intimate and profound, between your soul and the city’s timeless spirit. My dialogue began at dawn, chasing the first honeyed light spilling across the Piazza Navona. Alone, you move differently. Unburdened by consensus or compromise, I followed whims: detouring down a cobbled *vicolo* heavy with the scent of baking cornetti, drawn by the sudden, breathtaking reveal of the Trevi Fountain, still relatively quiet. Tossing my coin wasn’t just a tourist ritual; it was a whispered promise to the city, a silent pact sealed in the cool morning air and the fountain’s roaring majesty. Solitude amplifies these moments – the crisp *click* of your heels on ancient stone, the unfiltered awe as Bernini’s marble figures seem to surge from the water, frozen in divine drama. You hear the city’s own heartbeat, the murmur of awakening life, the distant clang of a baker’s shutter, the splash echoing in the vast basin. Wandering towards the Roman Forum, the sheer weight of history becomes palpable, almost a physical pressure. Alone, you can truly stop. You can perch on a sun-warmed block of tufa, gaze at the skeletal arches of the Basilica of Maxentius reaching defiantly towards a piercing blue sky, and let your imagination run riot. No commentary needed, no shared speculation required. Here, amid the ghosts of senators and centurions, the silence isn’t empty; it’s resonant. You feel the centuries compress. A stray cat sunning itself on Julius Caesar’s altar becomes a perfect, poignant metaphor for time’s relentless, indifferent march. The Colosseum looms nearby, its brutal grandeur undeniable. Observing it solo, you feel its dual nature more acutely – the awe-inspiring engineering marvel and the chilling echo of spectated suffering. It prompts introspection, a quiet contemplation on humanity’s enduring contradictions, impossible amidst a crowd’s chatter. Then, the Pantheon. Stepping inside is like walking into the mind of God, conceived by mortals. The sheer scale, the perfection of the dome – that oculus open to the heavens – is humbling beyond words. A shaft of sunlight pierces the dusty interior, illuminating motes dancing like celestial dust. Sitting alone on a bench, head tilted back, the immensity washes over you. The whispers of fellow visitors fade into a reverent hush. You feel infinitesimally small yet profoundly connected to the generations who stood precisely here, awestruck, for millennia. Solitude allows this space for pure, unadulterated wonder. It’s not just seeing; it’s *feeling* the architectural genius, the spiritual ambition made stone. But Rome isn’t just monumental stones; it’s vibrant, messy, delicious life. Crossing the Tiber into Trastevere, the atmosphere shifts. Narrow streets twist like tangled yarn, laundry flutters like colourful flags between ochre buildings, and the air thickens with the garlicky perfume of *cacio e pepe* and frying *carciofi*. Solo travel makes you porous. You notice the old men arguing passionately over espresso at a tiny bar, the clatter of plates from a hidden trattoria kitchen, the effortless elegance of a Roman woman navigating the cobbles in impossible heels. You slip into a *salumeria*, point at mysterious cheeses and glistening olives, and assemble a picnic feast. Finding a quiet step on Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere, watching life swirl around the ancient basilica as you savour pecorino sharp enough to make your eyes wa

I stayed at Ibis Milano Centro during a recent business trip, and somehow this place became more than just a hotel. It felt like a quiet pause in the middle of a fast-moving life. The location is perfect, close to everything yet peaceful enough to rest after long meetings. The lobby always carried a warm energy, a soft rhythm of people coming and going, stories crossing paths. My mornings began with good coffee, a simple breakfast, and that distinct European calm that somehow makes work feel lighter. The room was clean, simple, and honest. Nothing extravagant, but everything I needed was there. After a day full of decisions and deadlines, that kind of simplicity felt like luxury. What I appreciated most was the consistency. From the friendly staff to the comfort of familiar sheets, it created a sense of grounding. When you travel for work, feeling at home in a place that isn’t home is rare, and this hotel quietly offered that. Thank you, Ibis Milano Centro, for being a steady corner of calm in a busy city and for holding space for my deep heart in between the noise of work and the quiet of reflection.

Location is excellent and less than 3 min walkj g disrance to Central Station. Room is clean and spacious. Only suggestion is to provide hair conditioning for guests.

Everything was excellent. I enjoyed my stay