Recently, a startup began accepting lunar hotel reservations — not for a property that exists, but for one that might exist, orbiting the Moon sometime in the unspecified future. The deposit? A quarter of a million dollars.
Galactic Resource Utilization Space (GRU Space) is the company behind this. They’re asking people to put down $250,000 to reserve a spot at what they’re calling “the world’s first lunar hotel.” The hotel would orbit the Moon. You’d dock with it via commercial spacecraft. You’d stay a few days. You’d look out oversized windows at Earth rising and setting across the lunar horizon.
And then — assuming any of this actually happens — you’d come home and tell people you stayed at a hotel that doesn’t touch ground because there isn’t any.
The Deposit Structure
GRU Space has a tiered system. A $1,000 non-refundable deposit gets you on “the list.” A $250,000 to $1,000,000 deposit officially reserves your spot to be among the first guests.
Let me repeat that: up to one million dollars to hold a room at a hotel that does not yet exist, in orbit around a celestial body that has never had a hotel.
This isn’t a down payment on a condo. It’s not even a timeshare. It’s a bet that someone will eventually figure out how to build a rotating habitat in lunar orbit, staff it, keep it pressurized, and shuttle you there without incident.
And people are doing it.
What You’re Actually Paying For
The vision — and I’m using that word generously — is a small orbital habitat with artificial gravity created through rotation. There would be a handful of suites. Boutique, not bunker. Large windows. Views of Earth. A few days of floating, gazing, and presumably questioning every financial decision that led you there.
It’s space tourism, but with a concierge.
The stay itself would be brief. The real experience would be the journey: launching aboard a commercial spacecraft, docking with the orbiting structure, adjusting to microgravity (or gentle spin-gravity, depending on the module), and watching our planet from a vantage point only a few dozen people have ever seen.
It’s the kind of thing that sounds like science fiction until you realize billionaires have already paid for similar trips — and lived to post about it on Instagram.
The Symbolism (And the Absurdity)
No one is pretending this will be affordable. The deposit alone costs more than the median home price in most American cities. But the symbolism is what GRU Space is selling.
For decades, space tourism felt like a fantasy reserved for astronauts or eccentric tech moguls. Now it’s inching closer to the world of confirmation emails and booking platforms. You’re not reserving a rocket seat — you’re reserving a hotel room. With a view. And probably a minibar that costs $400 per sparkling water.
It’s a strange new chapter for travel. The most exclusive getaway on Earth may soon be somewhere that isn’t on Earth at all.
The Timeline (Or Lack Thereof)
GRU Space has released a visual timeline showing progressively more ambitious lunar modules. But there’s no firm launch date. No operational prototype. No regulatory approval from any space agency. Just renderings, a website, and a deposit structure that would make a luxury condo developer blush.
This is vaporware hospitality.
And yet — people are buying in. Because the idea of being “first” at something this absurd is worth more than the money itself. It’s a story. A flex. A way to say you believed in something before it was real.
Or before it collapsed into a very expensive cautionary tale.
Would I Do It?
The article asked: Would you do this?
Here’s the thing — I wouldn’t. Not because I don’t think it’s fascinating (I do), and not because I think it’s impossible (it’s not). But because I’ve seen enough “revolutionary” travel concepts implode under the weight of their own ambition to know that being first usually means being the test case.
And test cases don’t always make it home.
But would someone do it? Absolutely. There are people who will pay a quarter million dollars just to say they were on the list. There are people who will pay a million dollars to say they were first. The market for exclusivity has no ceiling — especially when the ceiling is 238,900 miles away.
The lunar hotel is taking reservations. The hotel doesn’t exist yet. The deposit is non-refundable. And somewhere, someone is already planning their packing list.