Ouch. The comment was a reference to my James Bond namesake and my secondary career as a mystery novelist, but nonetheless I was baffled by it, having no recollection of any guest encounter that would have provoked a public cry for my dismissal. Since the review was anonymous, we had no way of contacting the guest to find out what went wrong. Because it was a personal attack that offered little useful information, we asked TripAdvisor to remove it. But they refused, and it remains there today. Sometimes we hoteliers have to set aside our professionalism and say, “Whatever”.

In my last post I wrote about online travel reviews from a hotelier’s perspective. This time I take off my hotelier’s hat to poke some fun at online reviews from a traveler’s perspective.

When planning trips, I always check out amateur reviews for a refreshing, grassroots alternative to the salesy propaganda on hotel websites. Yet as these sites grow in popularity the process has become increasingly time-consuming and confusing. The playing field is now so cluttered, the reviews so contradictory and polarized, it’s hard to know who to believe anymore.

And whereas the vast majority of reviews are benevolent and seemingly authentic, a few reviewer types have emerged whose advice should be taken with a healthy dose of skepticism. In the spirit of parody, here are a few to watch out for.

The Self-Appointed Expert. This reviewer has posted scores of reviews, yet quite possibly has never left his computer room. An aspiring travel memoirist, he writes lengthy, flowery missives colored with acid-tongued remarks like, “To call this a fleabag hotel would be an insult to fleas and bags everywhere.” Although he positions himself as a martyr to the travel community, he wouldn’t object if a hotel offered him a free stay in exchange for a glowing review.

The Patron Saint of Hotels. This reviewer is so over-the-top in her praise either she’s never had a vacation before or she’s been into the sacred wine. She rates all services as excellent, including those the hotel doesn’t offer, and uses exalted phrases like “A hidden gem!”, “Glorious!” and “I thought I’d died and gone to heaven!” Because she insists on seeing the good in everyone, she often finds herself making excuses on behalf of a hotel, such as, “My niece fell down the elevator shaft, but I’m sure they’ve gotten that fixed.”

The Up-trader. Having scoured the internet for deals until he scored a five-star hotel at a two-star rate, this bargain-hunter now expects all other services to be equally discounted. He expresses moral outrage over charges for breakfast, telephone and the mini-bar, accusing the hotel of gouging. His comments are revealing: “$28 for parking!?! That’s how much I usually pay for a room! Rip OFF!”

The Down-trader. This high-flying business traveler used to spend lavishly on luxury hotels until the economic crisis forced a drastic reduction in her expense account. Now obliged to stay in budget properties, she lives in denial, complaining bitterly about the lack of a day spa, fur boutique and gourmet restaurant at her roadside motel.

The Uncle Bob. Like that dull relative who subjects you to endless vacation photos and anecdotes, this reviewer goes on and on but never manages to say anything helpful or interesting. “My room had a bed and a desk and a chair. Oh, and a painting of a landscape. Molly at the front desk—or was it Maggie? Well, whoever it was, gosh darn was she swell when we needed directions to the local IHOP…” Next.

The Extortionist. After a series of mishaps, all of which were his own fault, this traveler tried every trick in the book to weasel a comp stay from the hotel, and now resorts to posting a blistering online review. He rates everything as terrible, including things that were perfectly fine. His reviews read like ransom notes, with bad spelling and grammar, excess punctuation, and random capital letters: “This hOtel SUKCED!! RobeRto the Duty manger?%? was LaiMe…!!!!!”

The Shill. This reviewer writes in a style that sounds suspiciously like the hotel’s promo material, with phrases only marketing people use, like “nestled in the heart of vibrant old-town” and “well-appointed furnishings with dreamy Celestial Comfort™ beds”. Her review contrasts sharply with the other, not-so-generous reviews and is typically a one-off. Although she signs off with a cutesy pseudonym like “TravlinGrrrl”, she’s undoubtedly the hotel’s director of marketing.

The Forensic Examiner. This CSI enthusiast treats hotel rooms like a crime scene, posting reviews with gory photographic evidence of carpet stains, bathroom mold and bedbug bites. Even when his review is glowing, his photos make the room look cheap and squalid, particularly when personal items and family members are in the background.

The Corporate Saboteur. This reviewer is a hotel owner writing a nasty, bogus review of a competitor hotel in hopes of boosting his own property’s ratings. Telltale signs include anonymity and remarks like, “I finally checked outta that dump and went to the ABC HOTEL. Twenty bucks cheaper and free donuts! I’ll never stay anywhere else!”

As a rule I bypass extreme reviews—unless there are a lot, in which case I take heed. I also skip reviews with the word “lame”, the online word of choice for people with a chip their shoulder. I find the hotel’s overall ranking to be helpful, but it doesn’t always tell the real story. Pull up your home city on TripAdvisor. Do you agree with the top five hotels? There’s always at least one that raises an eyebrow.

Recognizing that not every reviewer has the interests of fellow travelers in mind, Expedia, Orbitz and Priceline restrict reviews to customers only, whereas anyone can post a review on TripAdvisor, Yelp, Yahoo and Travelocity. TripAdvisor has been known to post a warning to travelers if it questions the authenticity of reviews, but this practice has attracted a flurry of criticism in the blogosphere.

There’s no question, online reviews are a great resource, providing insight, humor and tried-and-true tips from the field. Yet travelers shouldn’t forget to consult the experts in print and online guidebooks, newspapers and magazines. If I find a lump on my throat, I’m heading to a doctor for treatment, not to some online quack who claims to be able to show me how to remove the lump from home.

We can all help increase the reliability of reviews by posting our own after our trips. Just remember to stick to the facts, play fair, and go easy on the punctuation. And try not to get too personal. It might not always seem evident, but hotel managers have feelings too.

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.

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.

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.

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.