Archive for the ‘Hotel Management’ Category

Together at Last

December 30th, 2006


It’s December 29 and I’m feeling sorry for myself because for weeks now, while friends and colleagues in the industry have been stumbling from one holiday party to another in a boozy haze, I’ve never been busier. While they’ve been Christmas shopping during work hours, I’ve been shopping for a director of food & beverage. And while they’ve been inventing all sorts of excuses for coming in late and leaving early, I’ve been coming in early and leaving late. You get the idea. I’m bitter.

I was whining about this to my Mom over dinner last night, likely boring her to tears, and she basically told me to get over myself. Did I think being a general manager would be a walk in the park? I really hate it when she’s right. Problem is, I’ve never been fully convinced I want to be a hotel manager. Right now folding sweaters at the Gap or greeting at Walmart is sounding pretty appealing. I’ve always been in the hotel industry a bit grudgingly, convinced that another career is out there for me, one with more pay, less hours and frequent trips to Tahiti. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. LOVE IT. But would I want to be a general manager anywhere but Opus? Probably not.

Normally things settle down for me this time of year and I’m one of those irritating people drifting around in a boozy haze. But recently my job got a lot bigger. I’ve assumed responsibility for Elixir and Opus Bar. When Opus opened four years ago the hotel and the restaurant/lounge were set up as separate companies, and I joined the hotel side. The ownership wanted to avoid the dreaded curse of hotel restaurants: bad food, inflated prices and poor financial performance that sucks the life out of the more profitable rooms division. So Elixir was given its own identity, its own entrance and a brasserie concept that contrasted with the hotel’s contemporary style. Things have worked out well for the most part, and Elixir and Opus Bar are popular with locals and guests alike. But there have been internal challenges and problems with consistency. For me it’s been frustrating not to have control over food and beverage, but at the same time it’s allowed me to focus all my attention on the hotel. All that will change now that we’re one big family.

When Elixir staff first heard I was getting involved they were nervous. I guess someone told them about my days as a waiter in Toronto when I was in my early twenties. I had two waiter jobs, one in a fine-dining restaurant and the other in a nightclub on ladies’ nights. My specialty was spilling drinks, usually on people, like the cold glass of milk I dumped down an elderly woman’s back and all over her fur coat. She screamed so loud everyone ran over to look. I was so embarrassed and apologetic that she felt sorry for me and gave me an enormous tip. At the nightclub I didn’t fare as well with spills. The ladies wanted my scrawny butt out of the way so they could see the big, buff strippers. Now that Elixir staff know I won’t be waiting on tables, they’re very supportive of the change.

Present position excluded, serving tables is the most stressful job I’ve ever had. Anyone who scrimps on the tip after receiving good service should be forced to spend a day as a server. I still have a recurring nightmare in which I have a section full of hungry, angry guests and the kitchen is totally backed up. It’s like those university dreams where you show up for an exam and realize you never attended class. (Other people have those dreams too, right? It’s not just me?)

Once I get a director of food and beverage in place the workload should ease up. I’m really excited about working with our management team to provide a seamlessly brilliant experience in Elixir, Opus Bar and Opus Hotel in 2007. Stay tuned, and swing by.

One last note. Condé Nast Traveler’s 2007 Gold List is out and once again Opus has been recognized as one of the top hotels in the world. What’s also cool is the write-up tells readers to “check out the general manager’s irreverent blog”. Thanks for the plug, CNT.

Wishing all of you a very happy new year! Hope to see you at Opus soon.

Guests Behaving Badly

November 24th, 2006

Last weekend was a challenging one at Opus. You would have thought it was a full moon. Maybe the incessant rain and contaminated water seeped into our brains. Whatever the reason, by Sunday three of our guests had been blacklisted. They won’t be welcome back.

Of course, I never divulge the identity of guests, but I will say that one decided to hold a very loud party in his suite, and was indignant when we shut it down. He was even more belligerent the next day when we informed him he’d have to pay for the room charges of his neighbour, whose room and tax were refunded due to the disturbance. We didn’t press the issue when things got ugly, but we also won’t be registering him again.

Guests who arrive without a reservation are often suspect. Of course, lots of perfectly decent people rent hotel rooms spontaneously. But for some reason same-day reservations are the most likely to cause trouble. “Cash-only” guests are a red flag too, which is why some hotels won’t even register them.

Another challenging guest this weekend was a drag queen. I passed him in the lobby on Friday night and he looked fabulous – tall, thin and glamorous, with big blonde hair and lots of makeup. It was cool having a drag queen in residence, I thought at the time; added some colour to Opus. Unfortunately, it added a bit too much colour. I guess he didn’t like the colour of his room, because he repainted it – with his makeup. It was everywhere: carpet, walls, doors and bedding, resulting in a large cleaning bill. Bad drag queen, bad.

The third guest had a steady stream of, um, “rentals” (an industry term) to his room whom he claimed were his “nieces”. One got off on the wrong floor late in the night and knocked on another guest’s room to offer her services. The couple politely declined, and promptly called the front desk. That’s all I’ll say on this issue.

Oh, and another guest punched a hole in the wall of his room. But he fessed up (people usually neglect to mention these things at checkout, like we’re not going to notice). And he was gracious and apologetic, offering to pay for damages. So we’ll let him come back. We all have our bad days.

When I was duty manager at the Pan Pacific we used the term “UD”, for Undesirable, to identify a visitor who might cause trouble. One afternoon a scruffy-looking guy in a lumberjack’s coat came to the front desk and asked me for a room. Deciding he was a UD, I politely informed him that the hotel was sold out. I guess he didn’t believe me, because he went across the street and called Reservations, who said, “Sure, come on over! We have lots of rooms”. He did, and marched right up to me, yelling and swearing. Turns out he was an executive with Truck Loggers Association, one of the hotel’s top clients. Oops. Suddenly, a room was available.

At Opus we welcome people from all walks of life, and we don’t judge their conduct, as long as they respect their environment and don’t do anything illegal or harmful. Fortunately, for every misbehaving guest there are hundreds of wonderful guests. Because the safety and security of guests, employees and property is paramount, sometimes we’re forced to be less understanding and compassionate that we’d like. Sensitivity and tact are essential. I can picture Dawn, our very-pregnant Guest Services Manager, sweetly but firmly informing the guest who had the party in his suite that he won’t be welcome back. Ever. I’m sure she handled it brilliantly.

Sometimes I miss my days in operations. But only sometimes.

Hotel Housekeeping: Lysol Comes to the Rescue

November 9th, 2006

In the past few months I’ve received lots of great stories from readers about their hotel experiences: the good, the bad, the ugly and the hilarious. I encourage you to send me yours by clicking any of the “comments” link below. All comments are monitored, so please keep them clean and brief. Oh, and try to leave the boring parts out.

Now on to my rant. Recently there’s been a barrage of stories in the media regarding a study that found travelers leave a lot more than toothbrushes and socks behind at hotels. They leave germs too. Nasty germs with scary names like rhinovirus that lurk on TV remotes, light switches and hotel pens. In the ensuing panic, many overlooked the fact that the study was conducted before rooms were cleaned, not after. Even more suspect, it was sponsored by Lysol. No bias there.

If you’re going to freak out over germs you should probably be more concerned about the journey to your hotel. Think airplanes, airport bathrooms and taxi cabs. Unlike hotel rooms, which are occupied by one or two people and cleaned from top to bottom prior to your arrival, these places can be virtually festering with rhino-type viruses and God knows what else. Now that’s scary.

Another thing that hotels are battling these days is “amenity creep”. Now before you run off in a panic to take a scalding shower and spray Lysol all over your body, I should explain that it’s not some incurable flesh-eating disease brought on by secretly recycled hotel bath amenities. It refers to the hotel practice of adding new amenities to keep up with changes in technology, lifestyle and guest preferences. These litte extras can range from an eye soother to a spa. When one hotel adds one thing it forces competitors to follow suit, which can lead to the never-ending race known as amenity creep.

Guests appreciate these little extras – as long as they don’t have to pay for them. But they also increase hotel operating costs, and rooms can become so cluttered guests think they’ve walked into an occupied room. There’s something to say for the stark minimalism of the St Paul in Montreal or the Hotel on Rivington in New York, where my room didn’t even have a clock radio.

No one has been hit harder by amenity creep than the housekeeping department, whose job has become increasingly complex and physically demanding. When Westin introduced Heavenly Beds, which consist of “a custom-designed pillow-top mattress set with 900 individual coils, 3 sheets, a down blanket – 3 versions for 3 different climates, comforter, crisp white duvet, and 5 goosedown/feather pillows”, I’m sure room attendants were totally unimpressed. They probably long for the days of a simple foam pad, two flat pillows and a floral bedspread. But guests don’t, so things aren’t likely to get easier.

Opus is not immune to this insidious disease. In fact, we might be a carrier. When we opened in 2002 we stocked our rooms with cordless phones, safes, irons, bathrobes, mini-bars, coffee stations and more, and we’ve been adding things since. Recently, we introduced CDs and bedside books, hand-selected to complement our five lifestyle-inspired décor schemes. Housekeeping staff must match the coloured dot on the CD or book with the colour of the room or they’re fired (kidding). All the more reason not to forget to leave a tip for the room attendant. When I travel I even tidy up my room before the maid arrives. But that’s because I don’t want her to think I’m a slob.

“Technology creep” (I just made this term up; feel free to borrow it, it’s going to be big) is another challenge for guests and staff. When I worked at the Metropolitan Hotel the penthouse suite had a state-of-the-art entertainment system, but no one knew how to work it except for the owner, who lived in Toronto. Last Saturday I spent a night at Opus and experienced technology rage (another new term, also bound to be big). Upon arrival, everything in my room was perfect: bed turned down, curtains shut, stereo playing the first song on the hotel’s Magnum Opus CD. Then the song repeated itself. Again. And again. I spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to turn the damned repeat function off, almost hurling it out the window, then finally gave up and switched it off.

Sometimes, silence and simplicity are best.

I’m Baaaaack! Did You Miss Me?

October 11th, 2006

First up, thanks to Katrina for filling in for me during my vacation. When I read her posts and saw how brilliant they were, I thought, “That brazen little upstart is so fired.” But I’ve since learned to accept being upstaged, and I quite like the idea of a backup for times of low inspiration or excessive workload.

Like now. It’s budget time at Opus, and the reality of having been away for a good part of September is sinking in. This is the busiest time of year for hotel managers; we’re trying to focus on planning for the upcoming year at a time when our hotels are still full of guests who need our attention. Which means lots of extra hours.

Not that I’m complaining. Planning for the upcoming year is always exciting, and I’ve got some great ideas after my recent travels. Right now I’m struggling to find a catchphrase for Opus Hotel’s 2007 plan. In previous years we rolled out our “best boutique experience” vision and a “focus on innovation” strategy, but this year, our fifth in operation, calls for something that reflects how established we now are as a business. I thought of “resting on our laurels” or “less work, more pay” but I doubt it’ll fly with the owners. I’m thinking the best strategy is to stabilize: to secure our guests’ loyalty, our staff’s eternal dedication and our positioning as Vancouver’s #1 boutique hotel.

Phew, glad that’s over. Now I’ll share a few observations from recent trips to Seattle, Paris, Rome, London, Montreal and Toronto, where I checked out about 30 hotels.

· Parisians are a lot nicer than they used to be. Maybe it’s because my French is marginally less deplorable than on previous visits. Or maybe they’ve realized that France is the most visited country in the world, and if people stop coming they will have no one left to condescend to. Whatever the case, merci bien. It made my trip all the more pleasurable.

· At the lounge in Hotel Le Meurice (where, you may recall, I wanted to stay but refused to pay $1300 per night) a simple vodka tonic is 24 Euros, or CDN $35. Thank God I was being hosted. It’s a beautiful hotel with impeccable service, but I’m glad I didn’t stay there. It’s too fussy and old-world for my tastes, and the drinks are far too expensive.

· More to my liking in Paris were Murano, Hotel Costes and the new Kube. Located in a rather dodgy part of the 18th arrondissement, Kube is home to Ice Cube (how cute), a bar made of 22 tons of ice. For 38 Euros (CDN $55) you get ½ hour to sample unlimited Grey Goose vodka blends out of hollowed-out ice cubes. The temperature is kept at a balmy -5, but staff very thoughtfully supply coats and gloves.

· In London, the lobby of the Sanderson Hotel, designed by Philippe Starck and part of Morgan’s Hotel Group, still looks modern and fresh. The bar is hugely popular, and the courtyard is stunning, but we couldn’t help but notice all the working girls preying on international playboys.

· Back in Canada, I stayed at the Drake in Toronto, which lived up its hype. With only 19 rooms it’s more a cluster of bars and restaurants than a hotel, but rooms are well thought-out and inexpensive, and service is great, provided you don’t mind staying on the fringes of Queen West.

· In Montreal we encountered an impressive doorman when we dropped by Hotel Le St. James. Miguel greeted us warmly, sat us down and gave us an overview of the hotel that would put your average sales director to shame, then introduced us around to other staff. Other hotels we liked include Le Germain, the Nelligan, Place d’Armes, Le Godin and the Gault.

· I’ve admired W Hotels for years, but I fear they’re losing their edge. It’s the world’s fastest growing luxury hotel brand, but the look hasn’t evolved much. Service remains inconsistent (some staff interpret the “whatever” philosophy much differently than management intended) and it’s over-branded; you can read only so many cute plays on “W” words before it becomes annoying. Problem is, W appeals to a fashionable crowd whose ever-changing tastes are tough to keep up with, particularly for a hotel chain. Let’s hope they address these issues as they plan for 2007.

· The new Hotel 1000 in Seattle looks awesome.

I could go on and on and on about my travels (as my friends and colleagues will attest), but I’ll leave it at that for now. It’s time to get back to my budget.

Appropriation, the Highest Form of Flattery

August 25th, 2006

Sometimes I miss the days when I was in sales. I got to travel all over the continent at the company’s expense and – my favourite pastime – check out other luxury hotels. This job keeps me chained to Opus most of the year. But this fall will be a heavy travel month for me.

On Sunday I’m going to Seattle for Opus Hotel’s annual sales & marketing retreat – or, as they say in ultra-positive business speak, “advance”. We’re staying at The W, where we’ll conduct sessions on 2007 marketing, sales and brand evolution. We’ll also check out the latest & greatest in Seattle hotels and see if anyone is doing anything new and interesting. If so, we plan to steal their ideas and try to pass them off as our own, which will make our sales & marketing plan all the more impressive. We won’t feel bad, because Seattle is stealing a lot of Vancouver’s Alaska cruise business. I guess they need it, with Hotel 1000 recently opened and a Four Seasons and Pan Pacific on the way.

After Seattle, in case you missed all my gloating in previous posts, comes my vacation in Europe. Unfortunately, my expensive tastes will have to take a holiday with me, since I’m not prepared to pay 500 Euros for a good hotel. So, I’ll be slumming it in cheap, likely roach-infested B&Bs, hoping no one recognizes me. The day I get back Opus is holding our 4th anniversary staff party at the Rowing Club. I’ll probably be so jetlagged staff will have to prop me up in a corner and slap me awake every so often. But they’re used to that from meetings.

Next I’m off to Toronto for a Tourism Vancouver media event. I’ll be staying at The Drake, which gets lots of great buzz, so I’m hoping to appropriate ideas from them too. From Toronto I fly to Montreal for our annual executive retreat – um, I mean advance. We’re there to plan for 2007 and to check out what’s new and hot in hotels, lounges and restaurants. Each night we’ll be staying at a different hot boutique hotel – Le Germain, the St Paul and Godin in case you were thinking of sending us an amenity.

Last year we held our executive advance in New York. In 72 hours we checked out 50 hotels, restaurants and lounges. We had strict, oppressive rules like only one drink per venue to ensure we were always on the move. We stayed in a different hotel each night – 60 Thompson, Hotel Gansevoort and Hotel on Rivington – all super cool in their own way. Norah, our New York publicist, got us on the list at some of the city’s most popular clubs like Marquee, Bed and Double Seven. Being ushered past the waiting masses through the velvet ropes made us feel extremely important – until the doorman at Bungalow 8 told us he didn’t care if we were on the list, we weren’t getting in, now scram. We had to skulk past all the people we had just smugly marched by.

In New York we had hoped to steal lots of great ideas, but we learned more about what not to do. At one hotel a front desk agent and bellman had a fight in front of us over showing a room. The bellman finally agreed, and was sullen, disinterested and chewing gum for the whole tour. We suddenly understood how Russell Crowe felt at the Mercer.

If these retreats/advances sound awesome, they are. We get out of town, brainstorm, analyze, commend and critique, all in an urban, inspirational environment. The investment always pays off, and it’s been a key part of Opus Hotel’s success. When I say we steal ideas from other hotels, I say it partly in jest. As an independent we try to keep on the cutting edge of everything, so we don’t often encounter ideas we haven’t already thought of. It’s more common for other hotels to steal ideas from us. But as they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery.

In my absence Katrina, our DOSM, has promised to write a post or two. Whenever I ask her what she plans to write she breaks into a wicked cackle. Remember, Katrina, it’s performance review time in November.

I’m sure you’ll enjoy hearing from Katrina. Have a great few weeks.

The Tyranny of the Mistreated Traveller

August 11th, 2006

I’m still smarting from a review posted on a travel website recently by an unhappy guest. It’s hard not to take these comments personally. I’m passionate about the hotel, as are my staff, and we want everyone to love Opus. The frustrating thing is the review is anonymous, so I can’t respond and try to make things right.

With the ever-increasing popularity of websites like TripAdvisor, Fodors and Yahoo Travel, consumers are more empowered than ever, and hotels are at their mercy. Travellers can now bypass the propaganda on the hotel’s website and go direct to its guests for the real story. The day we hoteliers have always feared has arrived, God help us all. No more smoke and mirrors!

As a traveller, however, I love this new trend. Problem is, consumers don’t always agree. In my search for hotels in Rome for my upcoming vacation, I’ve come across hotel reviews ranging from “THIS HOTEL ROCKS!” to “THIS HOTEL SUCKS!” Which do I believe? Since the reviews are anonymous, how do I know that the “ROCKS!” reviewer isn’t the hotel manager, or his mother? If I follow his advice and it turns out the hotel really does suck, how can I hunt him down and hurt him for spoiling my vacation?

Fortunately, many of these sites rank hotels and give averages, so negative and positive comments tend to balance out. There are also helpful tips and entertaining anecdotes. Whenever I want to feel better about myself I read up on the “worst rated” hotels. Some sites even feature amateur photos. But even the most beautiful hotels look kind of scary without a professional photographer, stylist and supermodels posing as rapturous travellers. As for bogus reviews, TripAdvisor claims to review all submissions before they’re posted, and penalizes hotels for fake reviews. I don’t know why a hotel would spend time fabricating reviews anyway; it only sets up false expectations. I’d rather focus on fine-tuning services to generate authentic reviews.

The immature, spiteful side of me sometimes wishes there was a website for hotels to rate guests. I’d give a “not impressed” rating to the guest who trashed a room last weekend and was found naked, drunk and bleeding from the you-know-what in the hallway after getting a Prince Albert (look it up at your own risk!). And I’d give a “very disappointed” rating to the guest who wrote a scathing, libelous letter about me that was published in Condé Nast Traveler after her car was towed from a clearly-marked no-parking zone and I refused to reimburse her. That happened 12 years ago, but I’m still mad. Otherwise, I’d write rave reviews about Opus guests, who are generally well-traveled, super-cool, and spend lots of money. Oh, except for the guy who checked in a few months ago and racked up over $4,000 in charges – with a stolen credit card. I’d probably give him a “do not recommend.”

If you have a bad hotel experience my advice is to contact the general manager directly and give him or her a chance to fix things. Try not to embellish your story or say nasty, malicious things about staff. Listing all the important people you know personally won’t really advance your case, either. Stick to the facts, and present a fair assessment of your experience. If you want compensation, say so. If you’ve been mistreated, any respectable general manager will acknowledge this and will make amends. We didn’t work our way up the ladder in the hospitality business from being petty and defensive.

If you’re not happy with the response, then by all means go ahead and publicize your experience on a travel website. But again, give a fair, rational assessment, which will lend you greater credibility. Try to avoid hyperbole, as in “it was the absolutely most unbelievably worst experience ever in my whole entire life”. Also, go easy on the CAPITAL LETTERS and exclamation marks!!!!! You risk being written off as an embittered, raving, possibly unstable person.

I’m always appreciative when guests take the time to provide feedback, good or bad. Either way, it helps me understand what we’re doing right and what we can do better. Fortunately, I get loads of positive comments and very few negative comments. But it’s the negative comments that keep me up at night. It’s like throwing a party and everyone but one person shows up, but instead of celebrating the amazing turnout you spend the night in a corner obsessing over why that person didn’t show. If you’re like me, you’ll do everything you can to ensure that person shows up next time and has a great time.

Guest comments are always welcome at comments@opushotel.com. All are reviewed and answered by me – unless they’re anonymous.

Rates and Favours

July 26th, 2006

After meeting Stephen Perrine recently, Editor-In-Chief of Best Life magazine and all-around great guy, I picked up the current issue and came across an article by Peter Greenberg, author of Hotel Secrets From the Travel Detective. Mr. Greenberg advises readers looking for hotel room upgrades to call ahead to the general manager or director of sales and establish a relationship. This explains the calls I’ve received lately, seemingly out of the blue, from guests wanting to chat.

I think I speak on behalf of all general managers when I say I hope not many people take Mr. Greenberg’s advice. We’re always happy to hear from guests, but we’re not so eager to hear from guests looking for a free upgrade. If you’re determined to get an upgrade, my advice is to request one at the time of reservation. If the agent can’t confirm it then, ask him or her to note it on your reservation, with a reason for the request if you have one. Management reviews arrivals each day, and they are in the best position to upgrade you if something is available. But don’t have a hissy fit upon arrival if it hasn’t been granted. If you really need a bigger room, pony up.

When hotel managers travel we try to take care of one another, offering a special rate, upgrade or amenity, and sometimes even a comp room. If this sounds like favouritism, it is. GMs are “Connectors”; we have a vast network of contacts in the travel industry and we talk about our brand experiences ad nauseum to anyone who will listen. People come to us for recommendations, and we’re always happy to dispense our sage advice. So it’s in our best interest to recruit one another as brand advocates. It’s also nice to have a deposit in the favour bank.

Before I travel I go online to see where I want to stay, then email the general manager to request an industry rate. I almost always get a favourable reply. Except last week, when I contacted Hotel Le Meurice in Paris. It’s more old-world than I tend to like, but I thought it would be fun to experience, and I’ve heard great things. I almost fell to the floor when I saw their rate: CDN $1,292 per night. They were also offering a “Decoding Da Vinci” package, which I thought was a bit unoriginal and bandwagon-ish, but only because I’m (apparently) the only person on earth who thought the book was semiliterate pulp. (Oops, so much for Dan Brown ever staying at Opus). My request for an industry rate was met with a polite but resounding “Non!” September is peak season, my contact explained, and no discounts are available, not on any day, not at any time, not for anyone. Tres désolée.

I was disappointed, but I do respect the decision, even admire it, and certainly envy it. Oh, to be in a position to banish discounts entirely – let them eat cake! Hotel managers understand better than anyone that peak season – or any busy time – is not the time to ask for favours. We must make hay while the sun shines. So please don’t ask us for a seniors rate for your Aunt Sally during the 2010 Winter Olympics.

As for upgrades, hotels are becoming as tightfisted as airlines. When I worked as a sales manager at Canadian Airlines I was overwhelmed with requests for upgrades, special fares and free flights. I learned from my manager that the industry was changing, and we no longer gave things away, not without a trade of equal value. Unfortunately, this change didn’t happen fast enough for Canadian; they went bankrupt. The same principle applies to hotels. If you want a gift certificate for your golf tournament, be prepared to convince us how the exposure will benefit the hotel. Charities are an exception, but even then the hotel benefits by generating goodwill, helping a good cause, and making staff feel magnanimous.

Incidentally, Mr. Greenberg’s name looked familiar to me, so I looked him up in Guest History, the hotel’s equivalent of Google. Sure enough, he stayed at Opus a while back. Did he get an upgrade? Even better.
He got a comp room.

Something Fishy Around Here

July 7th, 2006


It’s room inspection time at Opus. Every manager, from sales manager to controller, gets a block of rooms and a detailed list of items to check off. Walls, mirrors and artwork free of smudges? Check. Toilet paper roll folded into a perfect triangle? Check. Magnum Opus CD playing at turndown? Check. Mini-bar liquor bottles watered down? Check.

[kidding about that last one, of course]

It’s a lot of work, and it’s nerve-racking for our room attendants, but getting our managers into the rooms, checking under beds and lifting sofa cushions, is a great way to familiarize them with guestrooms. An eye for detail and general fussiness are prerequisites in this industry. Because if we don’t find it first, a guest will.

Some of the tricks of the trade to ensure a room has been properly cleaned include running your fingers along picture frames, baseboards and the far reaches of closet shelves. Look at things from a guest’s perspective. Place yourself somewhere a guest will go but an employee would not. Lie down on the bed. Sit on the lid of the toilet. It’s amazing what you might discover. Just make sure the room isn’t reserved or you’ll have some explaining to do when a guest walks in.

In addition to room inspections, once a day I do my “rounds” at Opus. This involves inspecting guest floors, outlets, facilities, meeting rooms and the building’s exterior. Along the way I often pick up debris, tidy up the lounge, seat patrons in Elixir or help guests with directions. My noble nature stops at valet parking, for which staff and guests are grateful (see Never a Dull Moment below). After an unfortunate incident in which a guest thought I was stealing her suitcase, I’ve learned to make sure I’m wearing my nametag before helping with luggage.

Years ago, while on my rounds at another hotel I detected the unmistakable odor of fish. I sniffed my way down the hall, the odor growing stronger as I approached the ice machine room. I lifted the lid. Grinning up at me was a large salmon on a bed of ice. It seems a group of executives had just checked in after a fishing expedition, and one of them wanted to keep his catch fresh. We put the salmon in the hotel cooler for safe-keeping, and drained the ice machine.

At Opus we have a program called “A Day In The Life” that allows employees to experience another position in the hotel for a day. A front desk agent can shadow the director of sales. A reservations agent can shadow the catering manager. So far no one has signed up to be general manager, but I’m still hoping, because I could use a day off. I myself am contemplating a day in housekeeping. I like to clean, and I want to gain a better understanding of what makes this department so good at what they do. But I have to admit I fear I might not pass my room inspections.

Miscellaneous Thoughts of Little Consequence

June 30th, 2006


How’s that for a gripping lead? A few months ago, when Katrina, our director of sales & marketing, came up with the idea of a general manager’s blog I thought it was brilliant. Back then I didn’t realize how hard it would be to come up with new material each week, and to find time to write it. I’m already looking forward to my two-week vacation in September, when I’ll be foisting this job on some unsuspecting colleague. (um, Katrina…?)

Truth is, I didn’t expect anyone to read my posts. But in just a couple of months these pages have been viewed by thousands. I’ve received lots of great comments, and would like to thank those who wrote for your encouraging words.

Interestingly, the only concerns about content came internally, from our LA-based publicists, who feared I had gone too far. What? they cried, you dished the name of the diva who used the F word on you? Eek! What, you admitted that Opus occasionally relocates guests? Double eek! What, you said the word “cleavage”? Triple eek! Their concerns compelled me to go back and soften some of my comments. Ironically, sanitizing my writing made me feel dirty, like I had compromised my artistic integrity. But our publicists are savvy, and they’ve done great things for Opus, so when they cry “Eek!” I listen.

Now, however, I find myself desperate for new content. It’s not that I don’t have a lot to say, the problem is that whenever I come up with an irreverent new idea I hear the publicists crying “Eek!” The pressure to perform within these parameters is daunting. I may have to start making things up.

One fairly innocuous subject I’m considering is chronicling the nine hotels I’ve worked for during my career. Sounds riveting, I know. But there have been interesting moments. For example, in 1996 I accepted, sight unseen, my “dream job” as director of sales & marketing at a resort in Micronesia. Where Micronesia is I’m still not entirely sure. It’s somewhere between Guam and the Philippines, a group of stunningly beautiful islands (pictured above). I signed a two-year contract, gave up my job and my apartment, held a going-away party that rivaled the closing ceremonies of the 2006 Winter Olympics, and got on the plane. It took me 36 hours to get there, and two hours to realize I had made a terrible mistake. A month later I was back in Vancouver, returning everyone’s going-away presents. I’ll explain why in a future post, but suffice it to say that as the plane took off from the island I had my middle finger planted firmly against the passenger window.

In another post I plan to shamelessly plug the mystery novel I wrote, called Murder at The Universe, which will be published in September ’07. It’s about a highly dedicated hotel manager whose universe is turned upside down when his colleagues become suspects in the hit-and-run death of the hotel’s beloved owner. The incident occurs after a boozy staff party, on the eve of the arrival of a militant anti-impaired driving conference. General chaos ensues as values clash among hotel staff, activists, guests and the media. It’s really fun, and I wrote it all by myself. You can pre-order it on Amazon now.

I should add a disclaimer that all characters in my novel – and the hotel itself – are purely fictional. Already I’ve had to reassure the owners of Opus that I came up with the premise long before I met them, and their lives are safe (for now). The great news is that the publisher has offered me a 3-book deal to develop the novel into a series. I won’t be giving up my day job, though, partly because I love it, and partly because I need new material. But mostly because I pretty much spent the advance celebrating a couple weeks ago.

Well, then, I’ve effectively completed this week’s post with mindless blather. I think that now makes me a bona fide blogger.

We Want Our Word Back

June 21st, 2006

Several years ago, the term “boutique hotel” arrived on the travel scene. Today, it seems like every second hotel is calling itself boutique, from 800-room properties to highway motels to mega chains. There are also boutique salons, ad agencies, law firms, hardware stores and pet stores. Everywhere, businesses are pilfering this precious term to distinguish themselves from the big-box-style retailers. And in the process, they’re ruining it for everyone.

We want our word back. It’s ours.

What exactly is a boutique hotel? Like the word “attractive” in personal ads, the term boutique is used loosely – and often generously – in the hotel industry. To me, a boutique hotel is defined by its size (200 rooms max), its ambience (intimate), its service (personalized), its independence (no chain affiliation) and its outlets (people actually use the restaurant and lounge). The design of a boutique hotel should reflect the city it’s in. And guests shouldn’t have to stumble through revolving doors to get in, or line up at the front desk behind hundreds of cruise ship passengers, or jostle with conventioneers wearing badges and silly hats. In a contemporary boutique hotel, brass and fussy floral arrangements should be banished, along with the music of Vivaldi and portraits of dead people.

When it comes to sullying the boutique name, there are no worse offenders than boutique hotels themselves. Many offer style or substance, but few provide both. Some are built around a hot lounge scene, but service is inconsistent and guestrooms feel like an afterthought (perhaps a deliberate ploy to keep guests out of rooms and in the lounge drinking). Others offer beautiful guestrooms and great service, but the lounge is about as lively as a public library. My favourite boutique hotels have style and substance. In the US they include Hotel Gansevoort and 60 Thompson in New York, The Mondrian and The Viceroy in LA, and Hotel Vitale and The Clift in San Francisco. While not technically boutiques, W hotels and a few of the Four Seasons also do this well.

One thing everyone seems to agree on is that boutique hotels are more expensive. This is partly quality related, partly market related: fewer rooms + high demand = higher rates. But it also has to do with economies of scale. Boutiques don’t order 50,000 bottles of shampoo at one time or serve 1,200 dinner guests. Uniqueness is part of the appeal, of course, and many travellers are willing to pay a premium for it. In the 1970s, the Holiday Inn’s slogan was “The Best Surprise Is No Surprise”. These days, travellers want surprises, as long as they don’t involve lost reservations or rodents scurrying across the floor.

Of course, not every hotel wants to be a boutique, and not every traveller wants to stay in a boutique hotel. Larger hotels can offer more space, better facilities, a more consistent product, and guest loyalty and frequent flier programs. At Opus we maintain that a traveller who chooses a hotel based on how many points she’ll collect toward an upgrade on her next car rental is probably not the best fit for us. There are plenty of other options in Vancouver.

Sometimes it’s fun to stay in big, grand hotels, landmark hotels, historic hotels – as long as they don’t smell musty. The largest hotel in the world is the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, with between 5,690 and 5,034 rooms, depending on the source (I’m not convinced management even knows). It comes with a sports arena, entertainment dome and wedding chapel. In fact, Vegas is home to 17 of the world’s 20 largest hotels. I stayed at The Venetian once (pictured above), which, at 4,027 suites averaging 700 square feet, ranks #4. Upon returning to the hotel each night (okay, each morning) it felt like I had to walk past all 4,000 suites to get to mine. A shuttle bus would have been nice. In Dubai, the upcoming Asia Asia Hotel plans to dethrone the MGM, with a whopping 6,500 rooms – a small city.

All this talk about big hotels is humbling, what with Opus’s mere 96 rooms, no sister properties, and no wedding chapel. Maybe we should become a boutique chain? This term is an oxymoron in my opinion. But some companies, like Kimpton and Joie de Vivre, have succeeded in building a collection while preserving each property’s individual personality. Buoyed by its success with W Hotels, Starwood has introduced aloft hotels, claiming on its website to be “re-imagining the classic American ‘On The Road’ tradition and giving rise to a hotel of new heights. A hotel so far above anything in its class that it can only be called by one name: aloft.” My rough translation: tarted-up motels for thrifty-but-cool travellers, with advertising copy written by a guy who used to write superhero movie trailers.

Now that the chains have stolen the word “boutique”, along with some of our best ideas, we in the boutique business better keep innovating. Fortunately, this is easier for us because we don’t have to wait for approval from corporate office. Stay tuned for advances in in-room technology, entertainment, amenities and environmentally friendly practices, along with even greater personalization.

And we best be finding another word for boutique.