Josh has traveled a lot for work. Sometimes his accommodations are nothing more than a shack in the desert and a plastic bag as a bathroom, but for a stretch of time his work travel meant a lot of nights in a hotel. It wasn’t the most fun being apart, but I’m reaping the benefits now. Because of all the traveling he did when we lived in Bahrain, Josh accumulated a bazillion hotel points and on special occasions we’ll go spend the night at the Intercontinental or (another hotel in the points pool) and get pampered as if we were high rollers.
He doesn’t actually spend the points (It’s a points thing, I guess. You want to keep your balance high to get the perks), but if he books a basic room he gets an automatic upgrade to a suite based on his status and we get club/lounge access which is the entire reason to go. We show up and bypass the lines to check in on the 18th floor, no need to mix with the riffraff. (We laugh, but once you go club, you never go back).
High tea is from 3-5. We sit with sparkling water, our books, scones, and finger sandwiches, enjoying the view and the peace and quiet. At 6:30 is cocktail hour with appetizers and drinks. The Thai shrimp and tempura with Thai curry dipping sauce and spring rolls were highlights. More Pellegrino of course.
Mona Lisa (yes, that’s really her name) asks if we have everything we need and says that she made our dinner reservations at a restaurant on the Marina walk for us. We finish our appetizers and walk over to the restaurant where we are waited on like celebrities — since the hotel sent over a message that it was Josh’s birthday and we were special guests.
We may be getting celebrity treatment, but a little girl behind the scenes is the one running the show. I think she was calling to tattle on her brothers because they weren’t letting her pick out the movie.
Surprise! A birthday cake for the special guest. Thanks Mona Lisa!
And if one cake wasn’t enough, the hotel sent their own celebratory cake to our room. It’s as if they knew cheesecake was my favorite (the real thing, not the jello-like sponges that they usually try to pass off as cheesecake here. You can see I already broke off a bit of the side to test it).
Josh reports that it’s not nearly the same experience in the US. He gets the automatic upgrade, but the lounges aren’t as nice and there’s no Mona Lisa asking how you would like your eggs cooked at breakfast. Since human labor is inexpensive here there are always an excess of service professionals around the hotels and restaurants, waiting to anticipate your every move. Can I get club access every weekend?