Goodbye Santa, hello Cupid! February 14th is just around the corner and the arrows are already starting to fly.  We see it every year, millions of couples panicking and stressing in search of the perfect way to express their devotion.   Some choose the boring and predictable “go-to” box of chocolates ….but come on!?  Then, there are those who go to the other extreme, like giving a Rolex, or a shiny new BMW.    Don’t get me wrong, I would personally be very happy to receive either (hint), but just feel it’s a tad out there.   So, what is the perfect answer?   This is where I plug my hotel….Well, OPUS Vancouver is here to the rescue!  This year we have hired CUPID, to assist the frantic and calmly assist individuals looking to plan an amazing romantic experience.   When you book our “Exclusively Yours” package,  CUPID takes care of everything.  He’ll frame your favorite photo and place it in your room with a personal hand written note from you all before you arrive.  Don’t worry CUPID is discreet, and keeps the romance real.   Happy Valentines day to all and remember in the end it’s the thought that truly counts.

Exclusively Yours Package starts at $295, and includes:

• Deluxe king guest room
• Sparkling wine welcome beverage at check-in
• 375ml bottle of Veuve Clicquot delivered to guest room
• Your choice of ½ dozen red roses or a fresh orchid
• Handwritten note and framed photo of your choice

Connect with Cupid Concierge year round:  cupid@opushotel.com

We recently took a trip to Oregon State, and brought along our beloved puppy dog, Molly.  She is a well loved dog, to the extent that I feel she clearly ranks above me in every category at home, including who is the king of the castle a.k.a house.  We took a week to enjoy the fantastic beaches and outdoors that the Oregon Coast has to offer, which is a prefect road trip to have with your furry friend. The challenges though began early as we prepared for our vacation, starting with where to stay.  It’s interesting to see how most motels/cottages/hotels didn’t pay a lot of attention to marketing or communicating to prospective guests their pet friendly initiatives.  Coming from a neighborhood in downtown Vancouver called Yaletown; where I see most dogs wearing collars that are worth more than my watch, you get the feeling that dog owners are a great market to tap into.  On the contrary, there were the properties that I really got a kick out of that did market themselves as “Pet Friendly”, but upon closer review they weren’t that friendly… One property charged $25/night to have your dog cozy in with you.  Hmmm… so an extra cost of $175 to bring along the little flea bag puppy for a week.   In the end we found a cozy hotel that suited our needs and accepted dogs, albeit with a flat $25 fee, which was much more reasonable.

All of that said, I have started to reconsider our Pet Program here at OPUS Vancouver.  Are we too generous in what we currently offer? We currently do not charge any fee, even though we dedicate extra cleaning to the room, like steam cleaning the carpet.  As well we provide  the guest with a doggie toy and treat, along with a copy of Modern Dog magazine, a must read for any doggie owner.  I looked to Molly to help me with some direction and guidance, which I usually do in important business matters, and those big puppy eyes told me there was no way I could charge for Mans Best Friend, or maybe just a little…

Travelers beware. A similar trend started about a decade ago, after word got out that boutique hotels were more profitable than other hotels. Suddenly hotels large and small were calling themselves boutique. But then a number of players tarnished the boutique reputation by emphasizing style over comfort and hiring mannequins for staff. When the big hotel chains got into the action, the boutique reputation suffered even further. Soon hotels couldn’t distance themselves quickly enough from the contemporary boutique moniker. A new buzzword was needed, and along came the next generation of boutique hotels: the lifestyle hotel.

What exactly is a lifestyle hotel? No one really knows. Essentially, a lifestyle hotel offers services and amenities that cater to a demographic with shared tastes, income levels, habits, attitudes and/or values. As a traveler, no longer are you obliged to leave your lifestyle preferences at home while on the road. If you can’t bear to put Muffy the teacup poodle in a kennel, you can bring her along, and your hotel might even offer special meals, a spa and Pilates classes for canines. Whether you’re a vegan environmentalist, a Crackberry-addicted techno-geek or a yoga-loving lesbian, there’s bound to be a lifestyle hotel for you. But don’t call it a theme hotel; themes are for amusement parks and kids. This is sophisticated stuff.

This time the chains are leading the charge. Starwood has Element and Aloft; Marriott has Edition; Hyatt has Andaz; Intercontinental has Indigo; the list goes on. In many ways lifestyle hotels are a great fit for the chains. Whereas boutique hotels tend to be high-priced, exclusive and urban, lifestyle hotels tend to be more reasonably priced, inclusive and accessible, located in secondary markets like small cities and suburbs.

The biggest challenge for the chains is fulfilling the promise of lifestyle hotels to keep current with traveler preferences. This can be exhausting—and expensive. Running a traditional hotel is far easier; you can maintain the same décor, employees and services for decades and pass them off as old-world charm. By nature the chains are slower to react because they have a lot of players to please. Let’s take a fictional chain, Guilty Pleasures Hotels & Resorts, for example, and say they’ve decided to roll out a signature scent. Hotel scents, a questionable trend in my mind—when I travel all I want to smell is lemon-scented disinfectant—are intended to round out the multi-sensory experience while subtly signaling to guests that they have arrived at their preferred hotel, they will never stay anywhere else, and they will spend lots of money.

Corporate office eventually settles on a scent that combines hints of jasmine, apple pie, whisky, opium and hundred-dollar bills. They dispatch samples to member properties and, of course, everyone hates it, particularly the manager of the Riyadh, Saudi Arabia property, where whisky is forbidden. He suggests oil as an alternative, which offends the manager of the chain’s eco resort in Montana. The debate goes on for months, until corporate office issues a decree that all hotels must use the scent or face expulsion. By then, however, travelers tastes have changed, and hotel scents have been found to be directly responsible for global warming.

When I joined Opus Hotel’s opening team in 2001, I came from a traditional hotel background and had no clue how to market a contemporary boutique hotel. Fortunately, by then a number of boutique hotels in other cities had gotten things terribly wrong, and I was able to learn from their mistakes. I wrote a manifesto for staff that specified the vocabulary we used to describe the hotel. Words like hip, sexy, cool and trendy were banned. If you use these words to describe yourself, you just aren’t.

Back then, all we had to work with were a few design boards, a chaotic construction site, and the ownership’s vision, which encompassed three key words: fresh, warm and sensual. From this we developed our mission statement and values and recruited a management team with classic luxury training who were entrepreneurial enough to adapt to a contemporary boutique environment. Today freshness, warmth and sensuality pervades every aspect of Opus, evoking not only the lifestyle preferences of our guests but the hotel’s soul.

Soul? Soul is an essential part of any hotel, and of lifestyle hotels in particular. It is everything abstract: personality, culture and spirit, that intangible feeling that prompts a guest to remark either “It just felt right” or “Something was missing.” Soul is often overlooked by hotel executives because we can’t see it, write it into an operating manual or charge a fee for it. Some hotels have all the right elements in place—beautiful design, quality amenities, competent service—but feel like the other definition of soul: the spirit of a dead person. Soul cannot be factory-produced or mass-marketed; more than anything it’s shaped by employees. By defining the hotel’s vision and values and using them to guide every decision, management develops the hotel’s culture and, over time, its soul evolves organically.

Will lifestyle hotels endure or be relegated to the garbage heap of overused and abused travel trends? Only time will tell. Regardless, given the stresses of our troubled economy and the headaches of modern travel, the timing couldn’t be better for a boom in hotels that contribute to travelers’ wellbeing by catering to lifestyle preferences.

Take the Lifestyle Concierge quiz and find out which of Opus Hotel’s five lifestyle-inspired décor schemes match your personality.

1. Everything learned in revenue management training has gone out the window. Hysteria rules the day as hotels drop rates, get indignant when competitors drop rates in response, and then panic and drop rates even further. All inventory is now treated as distressed inventory, erasing years of brand-equity-building and training travelers to look for the best deals on third-party websites. It will take years to recover from these rate wars, and the only winner is the traveler.

2. Travelers are becoming more demanding and less forgiving. Acutely aware of the hotel industry’s desperation to fill rooms, travelers are demanding even deeper discounts and more value add-ons while at the same time refusing to tolerate the cuts to services hotels have been forced to implement to stay afloat, posting nasty comments on TripAdvisor like “Save your money! This hotel has gone to hell!!”

3. Service levels are nose-diving. The labor shortage crisis of 2008, when hoteliers blamed poor service levels on lack of employee resources, has given way to the job shortage crisis of 2009, in which hoteliers now blame poor service levels on tight labor budgets. Managers have been forced to cover frontline shifts to save labor costs, thereby revealing they have no clue how their department operates, resulting in a deluge of missed wakeup calls, accounting errors and guests checked into occupied rooms.

4. Eco-friendly initiatives are being tossed into the recycling bin. Faced with the grim realization that going green costs money, hotels are instead opting for programs that guilt the guest into making the sacrifices, such as the now-ubiquitous optional towel and sheet replacement program. Having discovered that guests will tolerate plastic recycling bins and off-white tissue paper, hotels will begin to phase out those cute little bottles of shampoo, blackberry jam and Dijon mustard in favor of “eco-friendly” (cheap) bulk offerings.

5. Automation and do-it-yourself options are replacing costly employees. Hotel managers, faced with the horror of having to deal with guests themselves, are considering previously unthinkable initiatives like automated check-in kiosks. New labor-saving programs will include make-your-own-bed-and-breakfast packages, do-it-yourself luggage carts, and computers standing in for concierges. Meanwhile, all gratuitous positions created during the halcyon days like “tanning concierge”, “dream butler” and “pillow consultant” have been summarily retired.

6. The trend toward offering more healthful food choices in restaurants, room service and mini-bars is being reversed. Hotels have discovered that cheeseburgers, Coke and Kit Kats sell better and are more profitable.

7. Lifestyle hotels are popping everywhere though travelers still have no idea what they are. Customization will be taken a step further, with such options as the daily repainting of rooms to match the guest’s wardrobe, smart lighting that adjusts according to the guest’s mood, and hotels designed exclusively for germophobes, anarchists and narcissists. Meanwhile, lifestyle hotels continue to confuse guests with cutesy names for traditional positions like “comfort consultant” for housekeeper, “personal nutritionist” for waitress and “ambassador to happiness” for front desk agent.

8. Complimentary amenities are mysteriously vanishing. “Amenity Creep”, the one-upmanship game hotels played during prosperous times by adding superfluous items like lip balm, wrinkle cream and nose-hair trimmers, has given way to “Amenity Retreat”, in which all but essential items are being removed and guests will soon be charged for non-essential items like blankets, soap and hot water. Dog-friendly hotels are also being phased out as hotels realize that dogs are not hotel-friendly.

9. The boutique-hotel-as-nightclub trend will spread to traditional hotels like Ritz Carlton, Fairmont and Four Seasons. Lobbies will morph into late-night clubs, with Bach concertos replaced by techno grooves from in-house DJs. Traditional doormen in Beefeater-style uniforms will be supplanted by lobby hostesses in booty shorts, and the mantra “It’s my pleasure, sir” will surrender to “Hey, no problem, man.”

10. Standalone hotels will become a thing of the past. Mixed-use developments, in which hotels are housed in the same complex as condos, retail outlets and office space and condo owners shoulder the burden of costly hotel construction by paying for access to services they will never use, will expand to include hospitals, churches and crematoriums to ensure guests never check out.

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.