There was a time when hotel minibars felt comfortable. In the Gulf today, they feel like a brand that missed a few memos about how people really live. I didn’t bother to think about minibars at all.
The thought came unbidden, prompted by a mistaken menu and a raised eyebrow that remained raised.
I was staying in a hotel in one of the big cities of the Gulf (it doesn’t matter much). The prices were enough to stop me mid-view. Available for 55 riyals. Mixed nuts for 75 riyals. Smoked almonds for 75 riyals. A can of Coca-Cola for 30 riyals. M&M’s for 70 riyals. I put the menu down, not out of anger, but instinct. The count was over. It was only then that I realized I had mistaken the mini bar menu for the room service menu. The confusion felt appropriate.
In Gulf cities built around fast delivery, the small bar now sits awkwardly outside the rhythm of daily life. Hotel minibars have always been expensive. Their survival seems less necessary than adaptation. They are always there because hotels never stop to ask if they still serve a purpose. They are kept almost reflexively, folded into an unexamined checklist of what a hotel room should contain.
Living in Dubai, and spending time regularly in Riyadh and Doha, the delivery required no longer registers as a decision. It is background behavior. Food, groceries, pharmacy items, late night snacks, electronics, chargers. Orders are placed casually, often without standing up. Delivery is up to 10 to 40 minutes, and sometimes much faster. This is not considered indulgence or innovation. It’s infrastructure.
The numbers show this change clearly. Online food delivery revenue in the UAE is expected to reach $1.87 billion by 2025, with continued growth expected by the end of the decade. About one-third of the population already uses food delivery services regularly, while grocery delivery continues to increase as fast-paced commerce enters the daily routine.
Saudi Arabia’s delivery apps market is predicted to more than double to $17 billion by 2030, covering food, grocery, pharmacy and a wide range of on-demand services. Qatar has adopted a best-of-breed app model, integrating shopping, subscriptions and lifestyle services into one digital system. These statistics are important because they describe behavior, not desires.
Gulf consumers are digitally savvy and very price conscious. This is especially true for business travelers, the very small group hotels that were originally designed to make money. They know how much things cost. They know what brands they like. They know how long other methods take to arrive. They also travel frequently, compare experiences frequently and notice quickly when something feels out of date.
So when a business traveler opens a small bar and finds ordinary snacks priced above market reality, the response is predictable. Disbelief comes first. A little fun often follows. Anger is rare. Shopping is rare.
Delivery platforms are successful because they offer consistency, from well-known brands and food favorites to local tastes and authentic choices. The minibar, in contrast, offers a small, static selection that was presented as convenience, or ease of use in the Gulf now means something else entirely. This is one of the world’s most diverse markets for on-demand delivery.
At this point, the obvious question is what do hotels think?
The Gulf tourism industry prides itself on understanding its audience. Hotels are investing heavily in personalization, digital touch points, service design and guest experience. Smart room technology, app-based concierge services and hassle-free check-in are now the norm. Against that backdrop, the small bar feels like a holdover from a different era which, in some ways, undermines the polished feel.
It’s hard to argue that this is about improving revenue. Let’s be honest, Gulf travelers can afford minibar prices. They simply choose not to engage with a product that no longer makes sense in context. For this audience, value is defined in terms of how well the product fits into everyday behavior.
There are other obvious ways. Hotels can partner with delivery platforms to allow orders directly from rooms, integrate curated digital menus into their apps, or offer thoughtful, locally sourced selections that reflect the city rather than the standard global template. Some have already started experimenting with this approach. Others continue to put the same refrigerator and rely on the practice to carry this idea forward.
The minibar belongs to a time when travelers were captive and utility was minimal, long before anything was wanted. Gulf consumers are now operating within an economy defined by quantity, speed and consistent choice, and they can quickly see when the system has failed to keep pace.
Cities like Dubai and Riyadh are exceptionally advanced in this regard, especially when it comes to delivery. Almost anything can be called on demand, at any time, and at prices that reflect real market competition. Dinner, groceries, medicine, electronics, and even services that would have required an appointment can now arrive before the mini bar decision is fully set. This level of immediacy remains rare in much of Europe, where luxury culture is still developing.
In this context, hotels may want to pause and ask an uncomfortable question: why does the small bar still exist? Modernizing the acquired habits does not require a reinvention of hospitality, just a willingness to be aware of how guests are behaving. The lost opportunity is obvious. Partnerships with platforms such as Deliveroo, Careem, Talabat or HungerStation can turn an empty refrigerator into a revenue stream that guests can use, while sparing them an overpriced bag as a luxury item.
The small bar hasn’t disappeared yet. Its logic, however, went into the past.
And in an environment defined by speed, choice and consumer awareness, common sense tends to arrive quickly, often at the expense of those who ignore it.
