OPUS Hotels recognized as Best in the World by Conde Nast Traveler Magazine

It’s time to say “bye-bye” to big hotel chains and their long lobby lineups and “hello!” to the friendly service of boutique hotels. Readers of Condé Nast Traveler Magazine have done just that.

OPUS Hotels was recently recognized amongst the world’s hospitality elite as “Best in the World” and “Best in Business Travel” by readers of Condé Nast Traveler. In fact, OPUS Hotels was the only boutique brand included on the Best in Business Travel list which has us feeling very thankful considering that travelers have a lot of choices.

Year after year, OPUS Hotels is widely recognized as best of the best by esteemed outlets including Condé Nast Traveler, Travel + Leisure and Forbes Traveler. OPUS Hotels, for consecutive years, has even been included in the Presenters’ Gift Baskets at the Academy Awards.

As General Manager of OPUS Vancouver, I am extremely proud to share these achievements with our Team.

So what sets OPUS Hotels apart in a crowded market?

Without giving away all of OPUS’ fabulous secrets, here are the top 5 reasons savvy business travelers crave a dose of OPUS while on the road:

1. Complimentary Welcome Beverage
   After a long day of traveling and being assaulted by frisky airport security agents, it’s nice to unwind with a drink. That’s why OPUS Hotels offers every guest a refreshing welcome cocktail at check-in (something airport security could consider before those invasive pat-downs).
2. Residential Ambience
   Something to read other than the room service book? A custom music selection to rock out to in the shower? Rooms at OPUS Hotels are unlike any other. Inspired by five fictional guests, each room has its own personality, from modern and minimalist to artful and eclectic. Rooms are complete with a unique selection of artwork, books, magazines and music.
3. Luxury BMW Downtown Chauffeur Car Service
   Time is money. Jet-setting business guests don’t like to wait in taxi queues, nor do they care for chatty cabbies blasting foreign radio. That’s why OPUS Vancouver and Montreal offer all guests complimentary downtown drop-offs in the hotels’ luxurious BMWs. So whether guests are attending a button-down business meeting, or simply popping off for some late night Chinese – OPUS makes sure they arrive in style.  
4. Whimsical Service
   After a long day at the office, guests return to a sensory wonderland in their rooms. From freshly turned down bed linens and cool water carafes to relaxing mood music and retro candy bedtime treats, getting into bed with OPUS is an unforgettable experience.
5. Award Winning Bars & Restaurants
   The Zagat rated, award winning bars and restaurants at OPUS Hotels are sought-after destinations themselves. No visit to Vancouver is complete without meeting over drinks at OPUS Bar or enjoying a taste of La Dolce Vita at OPUS’ Cento Notti Pop-Up Restaurant. OPUS Montreal’s KOKO Restaurant + Bar is the city’s premier dining and nightlife hotspot, and was recently included on Condé Nast’s Hot List, Hot Nights List. Hint, hint – a perfect venue to entertain discerning business associates and clients.

No video for Billy yet—he doesn’t do suites, so he’ll have to wait until rooms are refreshed. Just so he doesn’t feel left out, we included an image of him doing what he does best: just being.

DEDE:

MIKE:

SUSAN:

PIERRE:

BILLY:

With the recent refresh of OPUS Vancouver’s suites, and guestrooms soon to follow, we asked the fictional muses behind our five lifestyle décor schemes to author a few posts. Our fifth and final post is from Pierre, the food and wine critic from Paris.

Pierre arrives sans Pierre

I arrived from Paris today, this is my first time at this hôtel boutique called OPUS. So far, not so bad. At first the walls were … how do you say? … a bit hard for my eyes, especially after three bottles of ’86 Château Cos d’Estournel at le Cinq last night (there were four of us, but two were not drinking, the philistines.) Now that my eyes are adjusting I must say I am finding the color very stimulating – Hermès orange, but of course.

The people here are so friendly. Why all the smiling? At the front desk I met a woman named Dede who looked familiar – an American actress, I believe. Beautiful girl, but the French? Une abomination.

There was also a guy named Mike, a doctor from New York, and his filthy mutt kept sniffing at my crotch. Had precious Pierre been present (yes, Pierre), he would have snapped off her snout in an instant. But Pierre travels first class only, and Le Monde is paying for this trip.

I am here to research a story about the culinary scene in Vancouver, so I have many restaurants to visit: Campagnolo, Blue Water Café, West, Bao Bei and Vijs – and this just tonight. The bellman has offered to drive me to Gastown in the hotel’s BMW 7 Series at no charge. So I will arrive in style, but, as usual, alone.

First I think I will explore this neighborhood they call Yaletown. It’s a former warehouse district, mostly residential, and the architecture is quite unique. Ce n’est pas Paris, but moi j’adore the open spaces, the tall glass buildings and the salty-fresh air.

In fact, I feel inspired. I think I’ll head down to the water for a jog. When in Rome …

Pierre

Editor’s Note: With the recent refresh of OPUS Vancouver’s suites, we’ve asked the fictional muses behind our five lifestyle décor schemes to write our next few posts. The second comes from New York doctor Mike, along with the above video showcasing the new design of his suite.

Mike gets upstaged

Okay, this is the last time I invite Anna Nicole on a trip. The little bitch has upstaged me at every turn, most recently with kee-ute Parisian guy I was checking out in the lobby while he was checking in. But he only had eyes for her, and she wasn’t exactly shy about returning the affection.

Look at her now, gnawing so innocently on that Milk Bone. Maybe it’s for the best that Steve and I are taking a break – I can only handle one princess at a time. Hmmm … wonder how he’s doing now?

Wait – my suite looks different. Feels bigger, brighter … the color is lighter. That big oak cabinet – gone! I’m liking this translucent divider. And what’s this – a king bed? Awesome.

Hey Anna Nicole, what do you say we shack up together tonight?

She doesn’t look enthusiastic. I think she’s pining for Pierre, the little tart.

At least I’m not stuck at the convention hotel this time. In Chicago I got pressured into having dinner with the other gynies, and it was so eye-stabbingly dull I faked sick and left early. An hour later, I’m heading out clubbing in a muscle shirt and tight jeans when I run smack into the guys in the lobby. “Feeling better are we, Mike?” one says, and they all crack up. Awkward.

Well, princess has to pee, so I’m going to fire up this Nespresso machine, brew a double shot, and take her down for a run – she just loves to see and be seen on the seawall. After that it’s a quick pre-party pump in the fitness room and then dancing at 560. Hey, maybe Pierre will be there …

What’s that, Anna Nicole? Sorry, sweetheart – no dogs allowed.

-Mike

Editor’s Note: With the recent refresh of OPUS Vancouver’s suites, we’ve asked the fictional muses behind our five lifestyle décor schemes to write our next few posts. The first comes from actress-diva Dede from LA, along with the above video showcasing the new design of her suite.

I can see dignified concierges everywhere clutching their golden keys and gasping in indignation at the title of this post. But hear me out. 

Technology has placed a world of resources at the fingertips of travelers. Mobile applications allow us to walk out of our hotel, point our phone into the street, and find local restaurants and entertainment, peruse reviews, consult maps and make reservations. In a PhoCusWright survey last year, 67% of travelers reported having used a mobile device to find local services. Almost daily, hotels and travel companies are releasing mobile apps and mobile-compatible websites packed with information normally dispensed by the capable hotel concierge.

Where does that leave the concierge? Parking cars? Slinging drinks in the lounge?

Let’s hope not. As a traveler, I love having the services of a concierge. But I’ve noticed an alarming trend of late: the empty concierge desk. During the economic downturn, hotel managers were forced to find ways to cut costs, and many set their sights on the concierge. There he sat, primly at his desk, occupying prime lobby real estate and yet taking in no revenue. Compared to the back-breaking work of housekeeping and the frenetic work of the kitchen, the role of the concierge seemed a bit frivolous in such lean times. Out came the schedule, and concierge hours were slashed. In some hotels, a permanent “Off Duty” sign was placed on the desk.

Did service levels nosedive? Did guests post scathing reviews on TripAdvisor because they couldn’t get front row seats to Hairspray? Perhaps. But many travelers simply turned to our mobile phones. There we found a portable, pocket-sized concierge who never recommends restaurants we can’t afford or purses his lips when asked for directions to the nearest Taco Bell.

 Can a service that is so often unavailable be considered essential? I find that the more urgently I need a concierge, the higher the likelihood her desk will be empty. Concierges operate under mysterious hours, seeming to open and close at random, like shops in Spain at siesta time. They’re always out running errands for needier guests; at the post office mailing a left-behind artificial limb; conducting cultural tours of Chinatown; shopping for that perfect ascot to match a guest’s leopard-skin jumpsuit. If she is at her desk, she’s busy reorganizing round-the-world itineraries for a guest with a heavy foreign accent and his entourage of eighteen.

 This obliges us to go to the front desk for assistance. Here the simplest questions, such as “Where is the nearest drugstore?” and “What street are we on?” can be met with blank stares. That’s because hotels recruit front desk staff from distant suburbs and lock them up during breaks. Or so goes my theory. Have you ever asked an agent who looks like she’s spent all of her fourteen years in a convent about the local club scene? Or a bellman who looks like he moonlights at a biker bar where to go antiquing? It’s no wonder we turn to our phones.

In this era of death-match bargain-hunting, when travelers will book a hotel blind and forgo even the most basic of services if it means getting a deal, is a concierge with intimate knowledge of the finest restaurants in the city really that essential? Aren’t these travelers dining at Applebee’s? And yet some travelers are utterly dependent on the concierge; upon arriving at a hotel, they become incapable of performing even the simplest of tasks, like confirming a flight or placing a stamp on an envelope. These people aren’t likely to turn to their mobile phones for help.

Some hotels have replaced concierges with touch-screen kiosks. That might work at airports, but hotel employees are still relatively pleasant to travelers – we like dealing with them. At a time when online travel agencies and price wars have virtually commoditized hotels, concierge services are a way for a hotel to distinguish itself. More than any employee, the concierge can turn a ho-hum stay into an unforgettable experience. In the age of social media, that can have a direct impact on guest reviews and business.

Can a hotel that doesn’t offer concierge services call itself luxury – or even upscale? The Four Seasons’ Isadore Sharp describes the concierge as “a combination of personal secretary, aide-de-camp, tour guide, travel agent, social director, best friend and flat-out miracle worker.” No wonder concierges are never at their desk. They’re out building orphanages. As a front desk agent, I used to have to cover the concierge desk during breaks. My typical reaction to guest requests was, “You want me to do what??” I was always relieved when the concierge returned. “Of course, sir,” she would say, with astonishing composure, “I’d be delighted to organize your daughter’s wedding.”

Not everyone has a smart phone, nor is willing to use it. I love my iPhone, but the volume of information it dispenses can be overwhelming. Sometimes I simply want to be told where to go and pointed in that direction. And so far my iPhone hasn’t volunteered to call up the owner of a sold-out restaurant to secure a table, like my concierge in Barcelona did. As smart as our phones are, they simply can’t replace the personal contacts and insider knowledge of the seasoned concierge.

The concierge will stay modern and relevant by embracing newly available tools. Concierge software enables hotels to create mini-Yelp systems exclusively for clientele. Mobile apps and websites offer reviews and imagery to supplement the concierge’s advice. Some hotels, like Intercontinental, have begun to equip concierges with iPads to assist with directions, advice and reservations.

By harnessing modern technology to enhance personalized service, the concierge will continue to play an integral role in the upscale hotel experience. And that’s great news for travelers. Let’s hope we see them back at their desks soon – and not up in rooms making beds.

At OPUS, we have a unique approach to concierge services. Rather than have a dedicated concierge, we use local knowledge as a criterion for hiring, and train all guest services staff to provide concierge services, which enables us to provide these services 24/7. We also offer our one-of-a-kind Lifestyle Concierge in Vancouver and Montreal, with recommendations tailored to match each guest’s unique personality and tastes.

What do you think about the future of the hotel concierge? Post your comments here. For more perspectives, check out the debate in the comments section of my personal blog.

I have just spent an evening at your trendy little address in Vancouver and felt I should convey my observations for the sake of fellow travelers, loungers and food lovers.

A little selective disclosure: I travel extensively, have enjoyed all manner of lodgings, from the piteous to the posh, and have come to appreciate good food and fine wine. In short, according to your Lifestyle Concierge quiz, I am “Pierre”, right down to my strong preference for all things French. That you were able to peg my profile so closely borders on privacy invasion – if it weren’t so flattering.

First impressions: If your staff were any more accommodating, I might believe they actually enjoy what they do (perhaps they get paid too much – you might want to look into that). “We’ll have our hotel car take you there.” “I’m sure we can launder your shirt for this evening.” “We’ll see what we can do about finding a replacement sock.” (Don’t ask.) It all got to be a bit tiresome, I must say. I take great pleasure in finding fault, and deeply resented being deprived of such.

A hotel reveals itself not all at once but in layers of nuanced and subtle detail, like a beautiful woman or, in culinary terms, an onion. Take your fitness room. Bright and well equipped indeed, but was that larger-than-life, nude mural near the entrance meant to motivate or mock me? The closest I will ever get to becoming this Adam of Eden was one of the complimentary apples, which at first seemed like a consolation prize, but as the evening progressed became more a symbol of temptation. Then again, I could have been reading too much into it.

As for my room, like Pierre, I approved of its “airy and fresh décor, a tad conservative, eclectic and cozy” reflecting my “tony and traditional lifestyle” (your words not mine, and if I may you’re trying just a bit too hard). However, I do have a quibble about the “intimacy kit” in the amenity drawer: thoughtful, yes, but only one prophylactic? A bit lacking for someone of my prowess. The last thing I want to worry about while in flagrante is whether supplies will run out, to say nothing of the awkward conversation with room service (you try tipping without pockets). And the oxygen dispenser? This is Vancouver for heaven’s sake, not Mexico City. Yet I had to confess it might come in handy and placed it next to the intimacy kit. As for the bathroom and its enormous window overlooking the room, I love the open concept – a little voyeuristic and naughty (parts of my profile your quiz missed) – but my 82-year-old grandmother might see it differently.

A word about your car service. The BMW 7 Series is built for speed and should to be driven as such. I was totally unimpressed with your driver’s insistence on going the speed limit and adamantly refusing my commands to cut other drivers off and jump meridians. Yes, there were small children in the area, but I was late for my fitting at Harry Rosen, and small children have never impeded my drivers in Paris. A small suggestion: send driving staff to the Grand Prix for training.

I had been looking forward to a drink at notorious hotspot Opus Bar, so was disappointed that it wasn’t busier. Yes, it was rather early, but it was cocktail hour somewhere in the world. Kristina, my sultry waitress, informed me that staff were setting up for a private party that evening, “when the real debauchery begins.” I took that thought with me to the loo, where the only thing that separates the boys from the girls, besides the obvious, is a window. My poor grandmother would have had to hold her bladder all night long. To my delight I found video screens mounted above the urinals, allowing me to spy on people in the lounge while relieving myself. Two were broken, however, and I was obliged to wait in line for one that worked, and then rejoin the line after others complained I was taking too long. Kindly repair.

Now, I’m no Anton Ego (the uber-critic from Ratatouille) but like him, I have a soft spot for simple dishes, perfectly prepared. The menu at Elixir was inventive and inviting, if a bit rich. Bypassing the lobster bisque and biodynamic risotto, I followed my inner “Ego” and chose the rib-eye, with pecorino and truffle oil pommes frites, all preceded by the poached pears, for balance of course. As I sipped an exquisite glass of Garry Oaks Fetish (you know me so well), I couldn’t help but be baffled by Elixir’s French-bistro décor and its contrast to the ultra chic Opus Bar only metres away. It was as if the two venues were competing. If they were, Opus Bar won, because as much as I love fine cuisine I love les jolies femmes even more. There, Kristina had been true to her word: by 11:00 pm the party had spilled into the lobby (ever hear of a retaining wall?) and the area resembled a mosh pit – granted, with the most beautiful and fragrant bodies one might ever be accidentally pushed against.

In the interest of discretion I feel obliged to wrap things up here. In conclusion, would I return to your hotel? Let me simply say this: If the devil is in the details, then she must have a room at Opus.

Yours truly,
“Pierre”

P.S. I’m only slightly exaggerating when I say the Tylenol and oxygen canister brought me back to life on Saturday morning. Whoever put them in the mini-bar deserves a promotion.

When I first heard that the hotel’s interior design team, led by the brilliant Robert Bailey (formerly of Architectura, now Stantec), was planning five guestroom décor schemes and 16 layouts, I thought they were crazy. With only 96 rooms, where was the economy of scale? They also planned to paint rooms red, blue, green and yellow. Colours? What about the official colour of every hotel room ever built: beige? They also casually mentioned that some rooms would have windows between the bathroom and bedroom – but no blinds, just a translucent sheer. I managed to win that battle by reminding them that some people travel with their grandmother. But the other design elements remained.

The hotel’s unique design features have made it fun to give tours. What I didn’t anticipate were the clever marketing opportunities the décor schemes presented. For inspiration, the design team created five fictional characters to represent the hotel’s typical guests, and then built rooms around them. Colours, fabrics and furnishings were selected to evoke the diverse lifestyles these personalities represented.

Think of these characters as a friend you’re coming to stay with. If you choose Susan, you’ll get a “stylish and sophisticated” blue room with curvy lamps and sexy fabrics. Susan’s a fashionista from Toronto who’s into the “see and be seen” scene. You’ll also find a selection of CDs and books to match her refined tastes (think opera, Dido and high fashion). After all, what do you do when you stay at a friend’s? You check out her CD collection and snoop through her bookshelf. Maybe you raid the fridge. But be forewarned, it’ll cost you at Opus. Just don’t steal anything like, say, towels or bathrobes or she might not invite you back.

If you’re feeling more uninhibited you’ll probably want to hang out with Billy. He’s a musician-filmmaker from London and his “artful & eclectic” room features lime green walls, whimsical art and faux rabbit-fur ottomans. Billy’s CD collection reflects his love of classic rock (think Kravitz and U2), whereas his books reflect his spiritual side (Ommm). Billy’s a party boy, so be prepared for a long night. Just don’t disturb Bob & Carol; they go to bed early. Bob’s a high tech exec and Carol’s journalist and they’re from San Francisco. Their “tony & traditional” yellow room leans toward comfort and conservative design. They’re not boring, they’re simply more mature and cultured. Oh, and Bob gets a lot of headaches. The CDs and books in this room reflect their fondness for jazz, classical music and higher learning.

Just down the hall you’ll find Mike, a doctor from New York who represents the convention traveler who breaks away from the crowd. His “modern and minimalist” room features cranberry-red walls, contemporary furnishings and edgy photography. Mike likes to dance to the divas and his leisure reading is decidedly non-medical, so be prepared for a blessedly superficial stay. But don’t get the wrong idea, ladies – sometimes Mike travels with his “friend” Steve. Upstairs in the penthouse suite you’ll find Dede, a method actress from Los Angeles and our resident drama queen. Her “daring & dramatic” suite features taupe walls, faux-fur fabrics and provocative art. Her taste in music is diverse but leans toward hip hop. She’s not much of a reader, but occasionally flips through books if there are lots of pictures. If you choose to hang out with Dede, be prepared to binge and splurge.

When Opus opened in 2002 we sent out a casting call for these characters and featured them in a photo shoot (see Billy above) and at our opening party. We’ve since tried to retire them, but people won’t let us. The concept of choosing a room to match your personality (or mood) captures the imagination. The media has written loads of stories about Mike and his friends. Currently, the characters are moonlighting as concierges in our Lifestyle Concierge program: you choose the personality that best suits your lifestyle and they tell you their favourite places to shop, dine and play in Vancouver.

What does the future hold for the Opus personalities? After almost five years, a few nips and tucks are in order. As we introduce new colours, fabrics and furnishings in our guestrooms we’ll update their profiles. Maybe Billy’s evolved into a Bono-like character who uses his fame for charitable causes. Maybe Susan’s career in fashion has taken off and she’s now alarmingly similar to Anna Wintour. As for Bob & Carol, rumour has it that Carol filed for divorce after catching Bob in Mike’s room. And Dede? Undoubtedly she shaved her head, did a stint in rehab and is building an orphanage in Malawi. We’re also planning to bring the characters out of the bedroom and into Opus Bar, where we’ll be featuring a martini inspired by each personality.

The possibilities are endless. One thing I know for sure, the Opus personalities have checked in for the long term, and they’re looking forward to welcoming lots more guests. I’d love to hear which personality you identify with most. And check out CBC’s recent story on the Opus personalities.

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.