Last I checked, I’ve journeyed in 143 flights, a huge portion of it is domestic of course but I had my fair share of international ones spanning continents, leaving little room for complain. And along it, is quite a list of hotel nights. For most, a hotel is a place to put up, for a pillow on one’s head so to speak, when away in foreign land. For me, it is much more than that.
My first international destination was Singapore but I had no opportunity for a hotel stay. I was still a student back then, so my distant never-met-before uncle’s place is the best fit, financially speaking. I will never forget his fierce brown dog that guarded the entire unit, and I felt like I was trespassing each time I needed to go beyond the bedroom. So, technically speaking, Japan provided my first experience in a hotel abroad. I vividly recalled the television to be rather small, and the bathroom even smaller. And the vending machine outside sells access card for adult-movie channels. What I don’t remember is if I bought a card
For me, a hotel showcases an imaginary life; I can assume a different identity and experience something home cannot offer. My choices of hotels in my early years are a direct reflection of my spending power. The five-star hotels whose names are so melodic became a pursuit for me. And I like to think that I am/was not alone. I purchased my first premium membership to one such hotel, not because I could afford it, but I perceived that I could. The credit card helped, but as a young executive climbing the ranks, I gave no second thought to it. I wanted to taste the difference, and be seen in the hotel that is marketed as the epitome of luxury. I was seen there of course, too many times though all I drank was the cheapest drink on the cocktail menu. And yes, I was paying for it out of my own pocket.
Fast forward 7 years, and I realized there’s an evolving pattern and summarizing conclusion. I still find myself occasionally in a five-star hotel admiring the marbled floor and high ceiling, but at someone else’s dime now. My choices of hotels now do not reflect my spending power. I also decided that the other hotels with less stars maybe equally hospitable or at times, more. In Hong Kong, I have a favorite because there’s always an upgrade and checking in from the 14th floor feels regal, and is a lot faster. I felt pampered each time I returned. You see, that pampering is part of the imaginative cocoon I draw up each time I travel. I don’t demand it, but I appreciate it very much each time I get it.
In Bangkok, I make regular trips to lebua for the view and the myriad of cocktails available, created by their very own full time mixologist, Alex. Each time I step into their river view suite, I ignore the free fruit platter and the kitchen amenities. But months after each stay, I can still vividly recall the delicious complimentary homemade chocolates and the Bvlgari products in the bathroom. Such are the magical effects of a great hotel.
When in Nagoya, I stick with the first hotel I stayed during my first trip because to make up for the lack of English speaking crew, they always checked us in so swiftly that before I fully used up the cold towel, the key is presented. Rooms are small but really new, hats off to their housekeeping team. Not marketed as a 5 star property, but in my books, they are. And for that, I will always return in my thrice a year pilgrimage to this city.
I’ve my fair share of Holiday Inns, a Hilton here and there and a Le Méridien nearly everywhere. From the lush picturesque Chiang Rai to Bavarian Munich a continent away, and from the Venice of the East to the real one in the West, I have amassed enough hotel stays and joyful anecdotes that at times, keep me awake at night in my own bed in my own apartment. As I welcome the Christmas season, I look forward to more hotel stays, and to more magical adventures.
Next up, another stay at lebua as I work to finish up the writing assignments handed to me.
Have a good December everyone.
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