44 - The Best and the Worst

 

RAFFLES, THE GRITTI, THE CARLYLE AND THE PLAZA ATHENEE

Evening on the terrace of The Gritti's Club del Doge (hotel photo)

Back in January I said I’d save my all-time best and worst hotel experiences for later.  As this blog's first season soon comes to a close, it seems a fitting time to look back at my personal F.P.H.M. awards*.

I’ll start with the most disappointing:  The Carlyle in New York City sometime in the early 1990’s.   

As a teenager, I had read and associated the Carlyle with the Kennedy “Camelot Years.”  It was generally conceded to have been the New York branch of the White House, and in addition to being home away from home to the various Kennedy  families, it was also rumored  to be the discreet place of rendez-vous for John and Bobby with various mistresses.

My room at the Carlyle 1993

I think to be perfectly fair, my expectations were too high and my means too low.  I had profited from a particularly attractive weekend special, far less expensive than usual, and once there, I really felt like the poor relation.  

 My room had everything it was supposed to, but was small, cramped and somehow lacking in the kind of glow you expect from a great hotel. It had two large windows, but with a view of a brick wall.

When checking out, I left two postcards with the concierge.  A couple of weeks later, back in Paris, I received a form letter saying I had forgotten to settle my account for two stamps, and that the amount had been deducted from my credit card.

It was like making a statement that return business was not something that especially appealed to them!

* * * * * * * *

 Number 2 least satisfying memory:   It was on a fluke that I decided to spend the night at a hotel in my own city.  I spent Christmas Eve 1989 alone at the Plaza Athenée, admittedly an eccentric choice for someone living just a mile or so away.

My room at the Plaza 1989

I don’t remember how I found out, as it was well before the internet, but I had come across a super discount which only applied on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. 

The hotel was pretty close to empty, but that didn’t help me to get a nicer room.  Mine was certainly among their least glamorous, despite a grand chandelier.  The bed was huge, but the chairs were lumpy, and my 24 hour stay was just barely acceptable.

There may have been some sort of personnel problem, as the few employees still on duty around the reception area seemed kind of discontented, even sullen when I arrived. 

 Checking out shortly after noon on Christmas Day, I can see myself now with my little overnight duffle bag, walking through the lobby, not succeeding in making eye contact with anyone.  Out the revolving doors without so much as a goodbye.  No one at any of the reception stations bothered to look up as I departed, let alone wish me a Merry Christmas!

Just so I don’t over-dramatize these two booby prize hotel memories, I have to admit that I continue today to sometimes frequent both establishments, though certainly have not been back to spend the night.    

Over the years I have continued to pass through the Carlyle’s magnificent black marble lobby from time to time.  It remains one of the great hotel entrances.  Brenda and I spent a wonderful evening two years ago, seated at the bar (the only financially justifiable way to afford this very expensive supper club) of the Café Carlyle for Debbie Reynolds’ show, and last year we returned for an evening with Woody Allen and his Dixieland Band.

The same applies for the Plaza Athenée, where we sometimes enjoy Sunday lunch in their Relais Plaza grill room.

So I had a bad experience or two once upon a time.  Life goes on, it is all fodder for my unusual  hobby, and I am too much a hotel fanatic to hold unnecessary grudges.    

* * * * * * * * 

Now for the best:

It goes without saying, this is all totally subjective.  Big drum rolls ....

 

Raffles, Singapore 2000

My first stay at the mythical Raffles in Singapore ranks high.  I hadn’t realized that the hotel only had apartments, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I walked into mine and discovered three exquisite rooms with a beautiful private patio. 

Upon arrival, I discovered a magnificent arrangement of exotic fruit.  Every day thereafter, regardless of how much or how little I had consumed, the fruit bowl was replaced with a new display of fresh and colourful  goodies. 

First bedroom at Raffles

Once settled in, I noticed that I was next door to one of the more prized apartments, the Ava Gardner Suite, where the North Carolina native had once had a prolonged stay while filming “Bhowani Junction” in the mid-1950’s. 

Raffles houseboys

As human nature often sees to it that we are never quite satisfied with what we are given, I began to regret not having found myself in the A.G. Suite, even though it was the last thing I needed or could have afforded.

  Be that as it may, I noticed the door ajar the next morning.  The houseboys were changing the bed linens, and I jumped at the chance to peek inside.  As nice as it was, it gave me a renewed appreciation for my own Raffles quarters, because, other than the shape of a couple of chairs and the color of some of the fabrics, our suites appeared to be identical.  Except for a few hundred dollars in price!

Raffles rooftop pool

* * * * * * * *

 My first trip to the Gritti Palace in Venice ties with Raffles for all-time top hotel memory.  Par for the course, I had found a really inexpensive off-season (it was mid-December) special.   

The first morning when I went down to the elegant Club del Doge restaurant, I was somewhat taken aback by the prices on the breakfast menu.  I knew that mine was ostensibly included, but as there was no buffet, and as I had no possibility of going a penny over my all-inclusive budget, I realized I’d have to  ascertain exactly what might and might not be incuded in my forfeit.  

The Gritti Palace today, like entering another world

I finally summoned the courage to question the restaurant manager, as to what I was actually allowed.   Giancarlo was an imposing figure, and I didn’t want to appear unnecessarily gauche.

  He seemed to know precisely who I was and what were the conditions of my hotel package.  “Whatever pleases you,” he said.  “Feel free to order anything on the menu, and have no fear, it is included in the price of your room."  

Giancarlo on the Club del Doge Terrace 1994

 On later trips I got to know Giancarlo better, and realized he didn’t see himself as imposing at all.  I once took a photo of him outside the terrace restaurant, and he sent me a touching note after I returned to Paris.

Whereas I saw him as the epitome of sophistication and imagined him growing up in the refined environment of Venice, he told me he was born in a tiny country village in southern Sicily where his old mother still lived.  He said she had hardly ever been to mainland Italy and then only to the Campania region around Naples.

He explained that his mother had never had a very clear idea of his life away from Sicily.  When he sent her the photo I had taken he was already nearing retirement age, and she told him that for the very first time she was able to understand the elegance of  his life, working in a palace like the Gritti.

View from room 215 at The Gritti, my first and best room with a view

 *Frank Pleasants' Hotel Musings awards.

Your input is welcomed:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

Next Friday:  "End of the Season Au Revoir"

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

Raffles and The Gritti were also featured in blog No. 31, "Fire, Water, and a Bloody Fall " April 5, 2013;  the Gritti in No. 17, "Celebrating the Holidays Away from Home" Dec. 21, 2012; No. 10, "Danny the Night Concierge," Nov. 11, 2012 and No. 23, "Mrs. X at The Gritti" Feb. 8, 2013.  The Plaza Athenée and The Gritti were featured in No. 13 "Those Silver-Spooned Children" Nov. 23, 2012 (to access, click on above titles).