Posts Tagged ‘hotel blog’

Summer in Montreal: moi, j’adore

April 5th, 2010

Montreal’s summer festival season is fast approaching, a time of year when the locals take their joie de vivre to the streets. The city’s enthusiasm for arts, music and spectacle makes for a spirited and enriching summer, with back-to-back events featuring live music, street performers, comedy, sports and cinema.

I experienced festival season in 2008, after I relocated from Vancouver as Opus Montreal’s temporary resident manager. It didn’t take long to realize that my tight-assed anglophone persona needed some adjustment. Shortly after arriving, I was entertaining a group of locals on the terrace of Koko Restaurant + Bar. It was a Tuesday night, and I was hoping for an early-morning workout before work the next day. Around midnight, our waiter swung by to offer more wine, and I declined, assuming my guests would agree it was the sensible thing to do. Pas du tout. I was unanimously overruled, and the party continued until the wee hours of the morning. (more…)

Technical Challenges for the Technically Challenged

April 1st, 2007

It seems my recent posts have not been going out to the subscriber list – a travesty! Our web designer extraordinaire Pierre seems to have fixed the problem, so this is a quick post to see if it’s working. Check out the latest, and thanks to all my loyal readers (make that reader, Dad got bored but Mom’s still hanging in).

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.

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.

Hotel Confidential

July 14th, 2006

At Opus we host lots of media, and in return they write stories about Vancouver and (we hope) say great things about us. Recently I’ve been approached by writers of travel blogs like vagablond.com who want write a review. Tech companies and celebrity publicists have long recognized the ability of popular bloggers to generate buzz. But only recently has the travel industry begun to catch on.

Yesterday I had lunch with a colleague, Mika, from Tourism BC, who told me she wants to host a media fam comprised solely of bloggers. I think it’s a brilliant idea. Now that I’m a blogger, the importance of bloggers in my mind has increased dramatically.

For those not familiar with the term “fam”, it is short for familiarization trip. Hotels and tourism bureaus host groups of travel agents, meeting planners and corporate bookers to allow them to experience a destination firsthand. The objective is show them such an amazing time that they go home and tell everyone. Everything is usually free, which makes me think that bloggers would be very enthusiastic participating.

When Opus first opened we hosted all sorts of fams to get the word out, giving free accommodation to anyone remotely influential in the travel industry. We now restrict fams to media groups and film companies, who generate the best results. For media fams, our publicists in LA and New York corral journalists from a variety of outlets. We put them up for a few nights, host a dinner, and hook them up at various spas, restaurants and attractions. Past notable participants include George Wayne of Vanity Fair and Grant Stoddard of Men’s Health.

One of our more memorable media fams took place at the same time Anthony Bourdain, bad boy chef and author of Kitchen Confidential, was staying at Opus. We invited him to our reception, and over champagne he enthralled us with anecdotes about his life as a celebrity chef and hedonist. Moments earlier, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner had been spotted in the lobby, so everyone was feeling that Opus was quite a fabulous place to be.

Then I noticed smoke billowing from the behind of a man Anthony had arrived with. He had unwittingly backed up against a candle and set his jacket on fire. The jacket went up in flames, everyone screamed, and the man ran around in circles crying out for help. Someone yelled at him to remove the jacket, which he finally did, throwing it to the floor. We all poured our drinks on it (a waste of good champagne), and a banquet server stamped it out.

The man was not hurt, but he was very angry. After uttering veiled threats about suing the hotel, he marched off in a huff, clutching his smoldering jacket, never to be seen again. It turned out that he was not with Anthony; in fact, no one knew who he was. Still, I feared that every piece written by these journalists would start with this story, the lesson being not to crash a party at Opus or you may be set on fire. Fortunately, they focused on the more positive aspects of their stay.

Anthony Bourdain swept into Vancouver once again a few weeks ago, on a tour to promote his new book, The Nasty Bits. I haven’t read it yet, but I loved Kitchen Confidential. We held a reception for him, where he once again regaled local media and staff. Fortunately, this time no one was set on fire.

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.

The Holy Grail of the Hotel Business

May 26th, 2006

It’s been a busy week at Opus. The hotel has been sold out all week. Well, almost. The holy grail of the hotel business is the “perfect fill”, when every room is occupied and no guests are relocated. It’s proven elusive this week.

Relocating is the hotel industry’s equivalent of an airline bumping a passenger. But hotels do it less frequently and we’re nicer about it. Relocates, or “walks”, are also executed more discreetly by hotels; for starters, we don’t announce your name over the intercom. It usually happens late at night, often to a poor, unsuspecting traveler who stumbles in after a horrendous day of travel (which may or may not have included getting bumped from a flight). It’s a nasty way to treat a guest, and hotels try to compensate by paying for the room at another hotel. And being really, really nice when they return. If they return.

Like airlines, hotels overbook to maximize revenues, banking on no-shows. We have revenue managers whose responsibility is to eke every possible dollar out of each room. This is not the person you want to talk to when you’re looking for a deal.

Understandably, a relocated guest can be a very nasty person. In overbooking situations managers pore over the arrivals list, trying to guess who will show and who won’t, and assign rooms accordingly. As guests arrive the available rooms diminish, and stress levels climb. It’s usually the poor, sleep-deprived night staff who have to deal with relocates, even though they are rarely responsible for overbookings.

As night manager at the Pan Pacific, I made a calculated risk that a family of eight from Dubai wasn’t going to show. So I gave their 3 suites to a group of businessmen who looked like they’d eat me alive if I relocated them. As I was handing them their keys, announcing to their applause that they had all been upgraded to suites, the Dubai family arrived. An altercation ensued in which the family demanded their rightful suites. Eventually, the businessmen prevailed, and the family was relocated. They were so abusive I had to call security for protection.

The trick with relocating is to send the guest to a hotel that is nice enough that she won’t be even further outraged, but not so nice that she will never return to your hotel. But sometimes the city is so booked you have little choice. In the past I’ve had to relocate people to distant suburbs. Try telling a guest he’s being relocated from a luxury downtown hotel to a remote highway motel.

Years ago, at the Harbour Castle Westin in Toronto a computer “glitch” resulted in an overbooking of 150 rooms. We set up tables at the hotel entrance so that guests couldn’t even get inside before they were relocated. The entire executive committee occupied these tables, which I thought was pretty impressive, particularly because that meant I didn’t have to do it.

Of course, at Opus we never relocate. Okay, almost never.

Last week we relocated a guest due to a late-night plumbing problem, but he was very understanding, and came back the next day. Last year, a guest’s dog got sick all over a room just prior to checkout. The dog was just a tiny thing, but the stench was so overwhelming it could have been an elephant. Housekeeping steam-cleaned the carpet several times over, but the odor persisted. Colin, our guest services manager, furiously reassigned rooms as one by one our guests arrived. By 2:00am we were down to one arrival and one smelly room. Colin prayed this last guest would no-show. But in walked the happy couple – direct from their wedding reception.

As a sidenote, the owner of this subversive little dog (pictured above, the chubby, guilty-looking one on the left) belonged to our former general manager, David Curell, who was back for a visit. He’s now at Hotel Vitale in San Francisco. Apparently they’re not pet-friendly at Vitale.

Normally we never relocate guests celebrating a special occasion, but they don’t always tell us this at time of reservation. A couple we relocated last year was celebrating the husband’s 50th birthday. They were enormously upset when we relocated them to the Four Seasons. I called the husband the following Monday to make amends, and was mortified when he accused us of relocating them because they were “too old”. There must have been a pretty young crowd in the lounge that night. I sent them a gift certificate for a return stay, but they haven’t come back yet.

Tonight looks promising for a perfect fill. We’re sitting at “0″: 58 rooms occupied and 38 arrivals. If there are no cancellations, no unexpected stayovers and no no-shows, we’ll have a perfect fill.

Let’s hope no wedding couples arrive unexpected in the wee hours of the morning.