Hotel oddity #29

Our suite at the East Hamburg Hotel
Our suite at the East Hamburg Hotel
Our suite at the East Hamburg Hotel

We were nearly asleep when the Jacuzzi turned itself on in the bathtub next to the bed. Of course we both flew out of bed, unsure what the racket was, then sure but baffled, then outraged. We couldn’t turn it off.

The bedroom-bath part of the suite at the East Hamburg Hotel
The bedroom-bath part of the suite at the East Hamburg Hotel

The East Hamburg Hotel can only be called a designer hotel (whatever that means). Every single item in the room, in the hotel, needs a second look. The bed is a free-standing unit with built-in side tables and lighting. Beside it is a free-standing bathroom counter on which are perched a creature-like mirror and—see the stomach-shaped pewter blob?—that’s the sink.

There’s a shower behind the glass doors and a toilet behind the wooden door. Between them is a huge Jacuzzi bathtub with a panel of intriguing buttons. I’m ordinarily repelled by hotel bathtubs, but we decided to give this one a try. It had a lot of noisy jets, which we soon turned off, opting for peace and quiet, as soon as we could figure out which unmarked buttons to press.

Bathtub at the East Hamburg Hotel
Bathtub at the East Hamburg Hotel

It was late. We’d just been the focus of a large press event. Bob had given a presentation, a series of interviews to journalists, and posed for about 30 photographers. There was a screening of our National Geographic documentary Pickpocket King, and a cocktail party. It was the last night of a hectic week of promoting the film and we had an early flight the next morning. The bath was relaxing. We dried off and fell into the seductive bed, exhausted.

Ten or 15 minutes later, we’re in twilight-land and the tub starts gurgling, humming, splashing, and foaming, as if a poltergeist were bathing. The unmarked keypad was of no use. The tub was filling.

We called reception, already dreading the imminent arrival of hotel staff, further delaying our much-needed sleep.

“It’s just cleaning itself,” front desk staff explained. “It will be finished in ten minutes and turn itself off.”

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel Oddity #28

Shampoo

Shampoo

A hotel I stayed in was unabashed enough to provide shampoo in a water glass! Obviously they’d simply run out of amenity bottles. But still… an oddness. Tacky.

I’ll not shame the company by naming the property.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel oddity #27

Hotel oddity: shallow sink

shallow sink

square sink

Nice square sink at the stylish Empire Hotel in Manhattan. Delicious little apples, too.

Another example of form over function though. You can barely get your hands under the faucet, the sink is so shallow.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel oddity #26

Hindware toilet

Hindware toilet

It wouldn’t strike me quite so funny if the brand were “Hindiware,” but it’s not.

Hindware.

Is there a more perfect name for a toilet? This one was in our grubby Mumbai hotel.

Hindware toilet

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Rooftop chairs

Rooftop chairs
Lounging in the clouds. Not for relaxing.

Out the window of our Mumbai hotel room, across the street: a beautiful building of apartments, or maybe it’s another hotel. On the roof were two lounge chairs backed right up to the ledgeless edge. Who could sit in them? Lean back too far and it’s six stories down!

Lounge chairs on a Mumbai roof.
Lounge chairs on a Mumbai rooftop.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel oddity #25

Naples panorama—view from our room at the San Francesco al Monte Hotel.

Bath salt

The San Francesco al Monte hotel in Naples, Italy, a former monastery originally carved into the mountain in the 16th century, is a warren of rock tunnels and hidden staircases. The clean, newly plastered surfaces are a stark contrast against the ancient rough stone parts of the property. Nooks and crannies and almost-hidden accessways beg for exploration with a flashlight.

San Francesco bathroom

Our room—even our bathroom—had incredible views of the city, the bay, and Mount Vesuvius, from multiple windows. It also came with beautifully packaged amenities, including a large jar of fragrant bath salt. All the room lacked was a bathtub.

Naples panorama—view from our room at the San Francesco al Monte Hotel.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel oddity #24

Can of slippers

Back at the Jumeriah Emirates Towers in Dubai again. This time, in a cupboard, I find slippers in a can. Why?

Isn’t this a bit forced “high-design”? Or is it cute?

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel Oddity #22

This very cup, holding this very fine pen, sat on a desk in our room. The coffee cup was from the hotel’s restaurant. The pen is our own.

When we returned to our room, housekeeping had straightened up and the cup was gone. So was our pen. Stretching a bit, I can understand that the maid might take the cup and return it to the property’s restaurant, even though it was being used (as a pen-holder). But how could she take the pen along with it? Is she blind? Was she so rushed that she didn’t notice? Didn’t it rattle or clink as she carried the cup away?

She returned the pen eventually, before we had to ask for it.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel Oddity #21

Floor thing

I have no idea what this thing is. It’s on the floor in the carpet, in front of a window. About an inch and a half across, no screws in the holes that look like screwholes. I saw only one of them. With quite a bit of force, the rubbery center part can be depressed.

Floor thing close

Where were we? Somewhere in England. In a hotel, of course. I forgot to ask the front desk staff what the thing might anchor or support.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Hotel Oddity #20

Bathroom doorsBathroom door wireOur hotel room in Paris had these gorgeous bathroom doors. Each door is made of one large plate of thick translucent glass in a wood frame. Bronze crossbars float above the glass without touching it, and there’s a little bronze ball of a handle on the inside. The doors are eight feet tall.

But what’s that little wire on the back of the door? It comes out of nowhere, emerging from the wall, loops a little, and connects to the door. I had to stand on the tub and stretch to take a photo of the top surface of the door. I thought I’d find a sensor for the lights, or trailing wires, or some clue. Nothing.

Still curious at checkout time, I asked the front desk staff who, of course, didn’t know. But they didn’t leave it there. They found a manager who explained.

Care to guess?

Grounding.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.