St. Augustine: "The World is a book and those who do not travel read only a page." Photo by Cynthia Wamwayi
It’s been about year since I embarked on my journey into travel journalism. I have visited 6 new countries, revisited another 6 or so, and stayed in 34 hotels for the sole purpose of reviewing and publishing them on this blog.
Looking back, it has always surprised me just what makes me love one hotel over another. The reasons are just about as many as there are people on earth. A cursory glance on Tripadvisor reveals that this is the case with many of my fellow travellers the world over. One hotel can garner high praise in one post and be literally torn asunder in the next, making you wonder whether the two posters in question are actually talking about the same hotel.
So I have learnt that telling you what constitutes the perfect luxury hotel is an exercise in subjectivity and highly personal tastes, and is as fickle a process as I would imagine compiling a list over the world’s sexiest man/women is. I for one have met many a surprise along the way this year. Who would have thought I would find much more joy in staying at a minimalistically decorated boutique hotel in Copenhagen – The Avenue Hotel – than at a decades-old, old-time glamour hotel in Paris which has seen more dignitaries, royalty and celebrity darken its doors in a week than The Avenue perhaps sees in a year?
Why The Avenue caught my fancy is really an amalgam of many reasons, but I would venture to say I loved it simply because it felt like coming home. From the moment its very enthusiastic receptionist welcomed me like I was a long-lost cousin, I felt like I was at a big family reunion. And even though I was first given keys to a room that had not been cleaned yet, I still felt welcomed. I still remember the chatter of happy children playing outside my room, and while this might have been annoying at any other hotel, it just added to the ambience of The Avenue.
If it doesn’t feel like home…
Then there was the swanky, hip hotel right smack in the middle of South Beach which drove home the point that how you feel about a hotel is as much about how it makes you feel to stay there. The hotel decor left absolutely nothing to be desired. It was designed to the nines, if I can put it that way. You kept wanting to wear sunglasses inside the lobby just because everything shone so brightly from being buffed and polished. The carpets inside the elevators were even customised to either beam Good Morning, Good Afternoon or Good Evening. Which made me wonder who went around changing them every few hours, ever single day? I digress.
The point is no matter how picture perfect it was, it felt like my presence there was mostly a bother the grumpy bellhops had to endure, and that coloured my whole stay there. At one point I even found myself rummaging through my purse to show my room key to the security at the beach entrance of the hotel just so I could prove I indeed was a guest at the hotel. I guess I didn’t look hip enough in my beach fatigues.
There is much to be said for simple courtesy. I will forever be grateful for all of the early check-ins and late check-outs I’ve been allowed this year. Places like the Scandic Front hotel in Copenhagen, who not only let my check in long before the official check-in time of 3 pm but also welcomed me heartily. Places such as the newly-opened Jumeirah Frankfurt , which allowed me to check out two hours after the official check-out time, a gesture I didn’t really appreciate until yet another new-comer - the Scandic Vulkan Hotel Oslo – demanded 10 pounds per hour for a late check-out.
Other experiences, such as having the hotel post you an item you carelessly forgot during your stay there (thank you, Four Seasons Hotel Prague) make you that much eager to return. Such small gestures colour my stays at hotels, and make me feel at home. Which is what it’s all about – a hotel should really feel like a nice home away from home, and its staff like benign and hospitable relatives. At least in my book.
And now to my favourite hotel this year…
Sometimes you find that luxury hotel which ticks both the exclusive large-scale luxury and feels-like-home-boxes. When this happens, it’s a truly rare occurence. Well-appointed living spaces maintained by staff who despite working in some of the world’s best hotels treat their guests like the prized gems they are and have not a hint of snobbishism. I surprisingly found this in a city that is (in)famous for its high-nosed arrogance – Paris. The Le Bristol Paris combined luxury and a meticulate attention to detail, extraordinary, exquisite food with staff who looked so happy to see you everytime you came back to the hotel you wondered if there was a hidden camera somewhere. On the rare occasions something was not quite right – I for example discovered I had forgotten my swimsuit just when the urge for a quick dip in the hotel’s pool was at its strongest – a quick question directed at the staff manifested a swimsuit in my room so quickly I was left reeling. Such hotels make you truly sad to check out, and make you look forward to your next stay.
It’s been a great year. A year I could not have imagined would turn out the way it did, with it’s very high highs and the occasional low lows. I’ve stayed at more hotels this year than in all of my 28 years combined, all the while striving to be my readers’ eyes and ears, and make planning for that next trip just a tad easier. I have truly enjoyed every single experience, and would like to thank every single friend, press/media contact and public relations expert for making it happen. I have truly enjoyed our (in most cases) smooth cooperation, and look forward to yet another fruitful and adventurous year.
And as this 2011 draws to an end and the promise of a new one lurks just around the corner, my wish for my faithful readers is for a refreshing and inspiring time with all your friends and cherished ones, and for travel and hotel experiences in 2012 which leave you feeling the same way.
Sincerely,
Cynthia
