SIRO Hotels is going all in on fitness, recovery and community. Senior Vice President Mattheos Georgiou reveals how the brand is building a new category of hotel – and why its rebellious, wellness-free philosophy is resonating worldwide. Robbie Hodges reports 

SIRO is proof that taking a risk pays off – a lesson many in the hospitality world would do well to relearn. Drop a pin in almost any city and you’ll land amid derivative offshoots of familiar brands and faint variations on well-worn concepts. Sometimes you have to call down to concierge just to remember which hotel you’re in.

At SIRO, that’s impossible. It’s a fitness and recovery hotel. It’s a lifestyle. And it’s distinctively, unmistakably itself. It could easily have veered into logo mania – especially with its debut property in chi-chi Dubai – but instead, its identity is woven through every touchpoint. You’re handed electrolytes in your airport transfer. You can pick up collagen jelly at the bar. Fitness is not an amenity here, but a guiding philosophy (as Globetrender explored in its review of SIRO One Za’abeel).

Rather than flirting with fitness fads, SIRO is in direct dialogue with the zeitgeist, riding the residual currents of the pandemic – a turning point in global attitudes to health that fuelled distrust in institutions and a renewed obsession with personal optimisation. Don’t just take our word for it. Over the coming years, SIRO is set to grow from two to six properties across North America, Europe, Asia and the Middle East, as travellers seek out its “better living” philosophy.

“We made many mistakes and we’re still not perfect,” says Mattheos Georgiou, the brand’s Senior Vice President, when complimented on SIRO’s crystal-clear concept. “It took us forever to get there; what felt like a really long time.” The team spent years in incubation mode, but now the pace is quick. Its first two properties have provided a helpful proving ground for the concept, with lessons that will be translated at the new hotels – many of them still blueprints on an architect’s table.

“We ourselves didn’t know what SIRO would be when we launched it; we have backgrounds in ultra-luxury resorts and we followed that formula,” Georgiou admits. “But our guests and members have taught us to go in a different direction.”

First lesson: the modern definition of fitness is social, says Georgiou. “When we launched in Dubai, the 30th floor [reception area] was all retail but we ended up removing all this and creating more seating capacity. Now we’re thinking of turning the 31st floor into a co-working space, a lounge where people can stay a little longer.” 

Alongside hotel guests, SIRO attracts local members – a community of fit, motivated residents who pay for access to the facilities. But “community” for SIRO isn’t just about building a gym-going fanbase; it’s about embedding itself into the rhythm of everyday life, both for locals and for travellers passing through. As Georgiou explains, the brand is shifting from a transactional model to something far more integrated.

Today’s luxury hospitality brands are expected to uplift both travellers and the people who live next door, and SIRO is leaning in. The last two years were about reaching profitability; now there's greater consideration for outreach. “They don't necessarily need to come to us; we can also go to them,” Georgiou says. “We can visit schools with our nutritionists. We can create recovery labs with our physiotherapists or aestheticians – a pop-up in a busy location with a refuel bar to teach people how to hydrate, how to refuel, how to be healthy.”

At the same time, SIRO is laying the groundwork to become part of guests’ wider fitness ecosystems through smart partnerships and everyday touchpoints – subtle but significant integrations that would see the brand woven into their routines long after check-out. Georgiou, otherwise tight-lipped, offers one telling hint. “I suppose I can tell you,” he says, almost reluctantly, “that we’ll soon be partnering with Technogym so that guests’ workouts on our equipment will automatically be logged in the SIRO app.”

It’s a small detail, but a revealing one: SIRO doesn’t just want to host your lifestyle; it wants to slot into it, seamlessly. 

What SIRO won’t teach guests or locals is “wellness”. The word simply isn’t in its vocabulary. “My vision is to move away from the hotel-spa environment,” Georgiou says. “No therapist greeting you with a towel and tea, mellow music, zen vibes. I don't want this for SIRO.”

Instead of spas, SIRO hotels have recovery labs – places to get fixed. “Recovery doesn’t necessarily mean an oil massage,” he says. “It could mean fixing my neck strain, fully clothed, in and out in 20 minutes. It could be that my brain is fried after five hours of presentations and I need somewhere to decompress with a drink. It could mean tackling jet lag. It could even be about networking in bigger, more communal spaces.”

This holistic, unfussy recovery concept is partly informed by Georgiou’s time living in Tokyo. “Take shiatsu,” he says. “You keep your clothes on, it lasts 30 minutes, and you’re often lying next to other people. It’s the most normal thing out there.” Not every cultural reference point will land in every location – Japan’s communal approach may not translate directly to SIRO’s upcoming Saudi property – but the brand is committed to offering a non-spa-like spa, tailored to each property’s setting.

After all, fitness culture might have the world in its grip but, even in a globalised world, cultural nuances and sensitivities remain. As it expands, SIRO is hoping to find joy in those differences, especially when it comes to fitness. In Dubai, trainers take Sanctum classes out into the desert, transforming workouts into immersive, place-specific experiences that blend awe and endorphins. 

Expect that spirit to follow SIRO wherever it goes next – which, for those with their finger on the pulse, means Siro Palmilla in Los Cabos, opening 2027.