A seasoned traveler’s top ten hotel peeves

by Annie Scott on


Hotels are marvelous things. For a price, you can eat and sleep there, bathe, do whatever you do in your personal time and even order services like food and massages delivered to your door. Still, little things can spoil even the best hotel experiences. Even if you end up saying that, overall, you had a terrific time, you won’t be able to forget that niggling little thing when a friend asks you for a recommendation. You’ll say, “Well, I stayed at such-and-such, but …”

Here are my Top 10 Hotel Peeves in no particular order:

1. Stained sheets.

Stained sheets should be thrown out, not put on the bed. Would you put your mama to bed on stained sheets? Your local thrift store won’t even accept them as a donation. You can’t expect your guests to be cool with the mystery orange spot (see below).

2. Nasty shower curtains.

Shower curtains in general are a liability. They stick to your body, which means they stuck to the last guest’s body, too. And when you see a little mildew, it definitely puts a damper on your experience. They need to be replaced a lot, to the point where installing shower doors is probably more cost-effective.
3. Paying for internet.

If it’s free at the Econolodge, and it is, it should be free in your five-star hotel, too. Way to nickel-and-dime your guests, hotel industry. You know who you are.

4. Shoddy paint jobs.

If the paint is on the tile, on the ceiling or anywhere else it’s not supposed to be, they really should have fixed it before charging you to stay in that room. Looking at it. It makes you worry that it was a last-minute cover-up job; like there was blood or mold on the walls and they had to paint it fast.

5. Lack of an amenity.

There’s nothing like discovering the hotel doesn’t have something you didn’t think to ask if they had. Examples of this include laundry service, room service after 10 PM and a way to print your boarding pass, among other things.

6. Pilled up bedspreads.

It’s just irritating.

7. Ugly furnishings they try to pretend are “beautiful.”

Taste is a personal thing, but hotels, you might want to take a survey amongst your closest friends when going for a bold statement. Yes, giant paper mache monkeys in your lobby might make someone remember your hotel, but it doesn’t exactly say “we know what we’re doing.”

8. Visible crap that says “we don’t care.”

I mean, sometimes, it’s like they’re not even trying. Case in point:

9. Lack of hair conditioner.

I am completely and utterly disappointed when there is no hair conditioner. For women and some men, it is a basic necessity. A two-in-one hair conditioner and shampoo is a step in the right direction, but it’s not great. I’ve seen this in hotels up to the four-star level. It means my first experience on that trip will be finding a store to buy some dang conditioner. Not. Convenient.

10. Unfriendly service.

Even if everything is “perfect” and nothing went “wrong,” unfriendly service will keep me from returning to a hotel. The hospitality industry’s first priority, beyond the health and safety of their guests, should always be being a good host. If it’s not, then there are probably a lot of other things wrong at the hotel that you don’t even know about. Besides, even if you’re not a hotel worker, you should always, at the very least, be nice. Common courtesy. I don’t care if I don’t get a broad smile from every employee I pass, but no hotel guest should ever feel like an inconvenience (unless they just like, broke the swimming pool — that’s on them).

[Dirty hotel toilet and other photos: Annie Scott]

Tahitian dance chronicles, part three: Dancing towards a new adventure (video)

by Celeste Brash on

To’ata Amphitheater, French Polynesia’s biggest Tahitian dance venue, is an open-air wooden stage surrounded by a half-circle of tiered seating for about 4000 people. High-tech lighting on adjustable steel scaffolding surrounds the arena and the stage is backed by a covered, elevated platform for the orchestra. From the stage, the seats seem very close and standing there before the show made me nervous — would I be busting my not-exactly-professional moves while looking my family and friends in the eye? My 200-woman-strong Tahitian dance troupe had rehearsed nine months for this one-night show but as a newbie, this still didn’t seem like enough time to get it right. But here I was, the night of the show and it was too late to change my mind.

While setting up our changing areas before the show, we were told that the maman groups (those of us well-past high school age) couldn’t use the dressing rooms — we’d have to change costumes outside where inevitable lurking spectators could see us. This was not ideal.

Luckily my friend Arvella came to my rescue and said if I helped out dressing the little girl dancers I could use the private rooms. This sounded like a good deal. I got in my first costume, a flamboyant number made out of leaves and vines that made me look like a glamorous swamp monster, then got to work helping the girls. After putting make-up on the first eight-year old, word got around that I had cool sparkly stuff and soon I had a line of wide-eyed cuties asking me for silver eye-shadow and lip gloss; once they were made up I was onto hair and costumes.

We were all ready and could hear the stands a-chatter with people. It got dark without us noticing and soon we were getting called to take our places. My group was entering the stage from the spectator’s stands after the Advanced-Pro and teenage girls opened the show with flaming torches. We walked up to our starting place at the main entrance of To’ata where people were still buying tickets. Several tourists took pictures of us, and I reflected on how strange it was to finally be a tourist attraction just before moving back to the States after fifteen years in this country.Our drum signal beat and on we went, through the stands and on to the stage shaking our hips, our leaf skirts swishing. Boom, boom! Like a dream our arms were raising and falling, hips never resting, bent knees, straightened knees, spinning and shimming across the stage. We were giving every move all the energy we had. Looking into the bright lights it was impossible to see the audience. I could almost imagine that we were dancing on stage by ourselves; it was perfect. I forgot that my family and friends were even there.

Before I knew it, the first dance was over and we were back in the dressing room but this time there was more to do in less time. I threw on my white fitted dress and flower hair ornament for our next dance then set about putting some little girls’ hair in buns.

After bun number three I looked around and realized I was the only grown up in the room. I ran out to see my group going on stage – I was late! Without thinking I ran on stage to my place (fortunately at the back) and got there a second before the dance began. This was a real rookie move but fortunately few people noticed.

The rest of the performance went on the same schedule: dancing, then running back to the dressing room to get dressed as quickly as possible to help the little girls with their hair and costumes. It was so hectic and fast paced that the most relaxing moments were on stage. I thought I’d be nervous and that I’d have bonding moments with my fellow dancers but there wasn’t time for this. It was all about getting on stage, getting off and working as fast as possible. The night seemed to go by in five minutes and before I knew it we were putting on our big headdresses and grass skirts for the final.

The final was choreographed so that we saluted the audience row by row with a “ia ora na” (hello or goodbye) and “maururu” (thank you). Whether this was done for the audience or not I have no idea, but from a dancer’s point of view it was the best ending possible. After nine sweaty months of laughing, bickering, sewing and building excitement I could palpably feel the overflow of gratitude from each dancer. To have been on this stage with such a diverse, strong group of women, dancing a thousand-year old tradition in costumes made from this land, Tahiti, reached back into all of our souls and transported us to a timeless place of pure culture. Thank you, we said, to the people who came to see us, to each other and to our teacher Heirani.

On my way off stage I saw one of Heirani’s aids and we stopped and hugged even though that’s rarely done in Tahiti. Some of my new little girl friends came up to me with huge smiles and one held my hand back to the dressing room. Everyone changed back into their street clothes silently. What could we say? After hundreds of hours of dancing and weeks of costume making, it was over. Thinking that I no longer had the performance to look forward to made me feel empty and light, like strong breeze could lift me away. I wondered what I could do in my new home in the US that would fill my life as much as Tahitian dance but I knew there was nothing that could ever compare to this experience. The dance was over for better or for worse and I was on the brink of a new adventure.

Previously —
Tahitian dance chronicles, part one: Getting hooked
 Tahitian dance chronicles, part two: Going to To’ata

[Photos: Josh Humbert; Video: Jasmine Humbert]

Ask Gadling: Making a five-year travel plan

by Annie Scott on


This week’s Ask Gadling question comes from Ryan in San Diego.

“How do you choose where to go? I haven’t traveled all that much, but I want to. My friends all just want to go to Hawaii to relax and I don’t really know where to start. Are there certain places I have to go to be considered “well-traveled”? I’m not rich, but I can take a vacation or two per year.”

Gadling: Hey Ryan, I totally get the wanderlust thing. I mean, I love Hawaii, and everyone should go there, but I understand the desire to see the world. You’ve already taken the first step by figuring out that you can take one or two vacations per year. What you can do now is make yourself a five-year travel plan. Here’s how:

Make a list.

One or two vacations per year for five years is seven or eight destinations. There are no hard and fast rules for where you have to go to be “well-traveled,” but to be able to participate in most travel-related conversations, I would say you should definitely hit France, Italy, India, China, Japan and at least one country in both Africa and South America. If you have domestic cities you’d like to see, consider hooking them onto your international trips with couple-day layovers.

View more Ask Gadling: Travel Advice from an Expert or send your question to ask [at] gadling [dot] com.

Strategize.

Rather than just blindly choosing which one to visit first, lay out the plan. Do you have a friend living abroad in one of those places? Go there sooner rather than later, in case they move. Are you planning to move to the east coast in two years? Save your western Europe destinations for after that; it will be cheaper to fly. Furthermore, are you in a good position to add destinations? For example, when you go to Africa, investigate a safari company that will take you through several countries. You could also try to plan two longer trips to Europe and Asia and country-hop there, as well. Traveling to multiple destinations per trip will actually save you money in the long run, if you’re planning to hit all those destinations eventually anyway.

Amass information.

At this point, you should have a list of destinations and a vague idea of what year you’ll be going to them. Now, the real research starts. Find out what the weather will be like and plan your trips by season. Find out what goes on in Italy in September/October, or what festivals are in India in February. Ask friends and family what they recommend doing in your various destinations, and be sure that whatever activity you want is available at the time of year you’re visiting. This may sound like a lot of work, but it can be fun — just keep in mind that you’re actually going to get to go to these places and do these things. Keep the excitement of it all in mind.

Enlist friends.

Your friends may be beach bums by nature, but gauge their interest about your destinations. They may surprise you, and it can be good to have a traveling companion. Maybe you’ll have a different one for every trip — and that’s fine. It’s also fine to go alone, or make friends with locals and other travelers while you’re there (then you don’t feel alone, like you’re not sharing your experiences with anyone).

Get specific.

Now comes the really hard part: making concrete decisions. Take a look at your first two trips. Decide on your cities, and go ahead and book your hotels. If you’re doing this blindly, it can feel very intimidating, but just keep in mind that no matter where you stay, it will probably work out just fine. Google every potential hotel to see what guests have said about it. Perhaps the most important thing to keep in mind when booking a hotel in a strange city is transportation; like, if you’re not renting a car, stay somewhere near the city center and decide in advance how you’re going to get there. Do they have an airport shuttle? Is there public transportation available? If you are renting a car, you may be able to save money by staying somewhere a little out of the way, but check online to see that previous guests aren’t reporting muggings and kidnappings in the area.

The first trip is the hardest (most intimidating), but by the second, you’ll probably be addicted — and feeling well-traveled.

The feeling of being well-traveled doesn’t come from crossing countries off a list, but from the act of planning your trip and the experience of seeing all your decisions, blind and otherwise, come to fruition. It comes from truly exposing yourself to and immersing yourself in something completely new. Good luck planning your next five years of travel!

[Photo credit: Annie Scott]

Win free Hyatt resort stays in their “Best Of All Worlds” challenge

by Scott Carmichael on

Now the Hyatt “Big Welcome Back” promotion is over, Hyatt has launched another way for you to win free nights. This time, they are promoting their resort properties, and by heading on over to their Facebook page and uploading a photo, five lucky winners will win a two night stay at any Hyatt Resort in the world. Ten runner-ups will win 7000 Hyatt Gold Passport points.

Click here for the contest entry page. Enter your personal information, then pick your favorite Hyatt Resort location. To complete your entry, upload a photo of your favorite vacation activity. The winners will be selected from the Hyatt Resort with the most votes.

The contest started yesterday, and lasts till July 28 (but you can only upload pictures until July 26th). You’ll obviously need a Facebook account to enter, as well as a Hyatt Gold Passport account for the free points.

Tahitian dance chronicles, part two: Going to To’ata

by Celeste Brash on

It was February and I’d been taking Tahitian dance classes for six months. I was now loving my twice-weekly wiggle as well as hanging out with my sometimes cranky but always lively retired Tahitian classmates. My hips were really starting to move and my rolling ueue shake was getting so fast that the teacher grouped me into the more competent half of our class.

Now the warm-ups were more complicated, with moves like the afata (hips like a box) that I just couldn’t get right. At least the previously aloof ladies in class were now being helpful.

“Follow me,” Tania would say, bringing me over to copy her. “See you bend the knee, keep it bent, straighten then straighten. Move the hips in a square to the count of four.”

We had also started learning the choreography for two aparima, slow, graceful dances with swaying hips and lots of wave-like arm gestures. The dances were less blatantly sexy than our fast otea, but embodied a quiet feminine beauty.

I still was adamant about not performing in the show until the day our teacher Heirani announced that we were going to start making costumes.”We’ll start with our more [grass skirt] belt and headdress,” she said. “All the feathers, shells and pandanus are provided by the school and we’ll be sewing together Saturday morning.”

Grass skirts, fluffy belts, big hats and a sewing circle: this was a culture freak’s girl-time nirvana. I couldn’t help it, I wanted to wear an outrageous costume made out of leaves and shells and make it myself with the help of the locals. I told everyone that I was going to make the costumes then decide later if I was going to do the show or not. They all nodded calmly as if to say, “yeah, sure, that’s what they all say.”

When I showed up on Saturday to make my first costume I encountered a new surprise. There were at least ten other classes at the dance school and on costume day everyone was there together as a group. I knew almost everyone. There was my good friend Amel, my swimming buddy Niouk and my carpool partner Karine. It dawned on me that although I knew all of these people danced, I had never appreciated what dance had meant in their lives. After 15 years I was suddenly in a club I hadn’t realized existed. For all these years I’d been missing out on this beautiful and essential part of Tahitian culture. Now whenever I saw these friends outside of dance all we talked about was choreography and costumes.

There was a Gala rehearsal and I went. We learned how we needed to move around the stage while doing our moves in relation to the other dancers. I was used to my class of around 15 women but now we were a group of 200, ranging from age five to 75 in all shapes and sizes.

After this rehearsal there was another and then another. A live percussion orchestra played the songs we’d been dancing to in class and suddenly we were a complete, massive and organic piece of performance art. Heirani added a Monday class so we could practice more often and one morning a week was dedicated to costume making. I had a list of plants I needed to gather for my show skirts including strips of red banana trunk fiber and 50 green ‘ti leaves. Every time I was invited over to someone’s house I’d troll their garden for material.

“Yeah I’ll have a beer, and you don’t happen to have a red banana tree or some of those elephant ear vines in your yard do you?”

My fingers were sore from sewing and my legs and abs were sore from dancing so much.

During rehearsals we began to see what the other classes were up to. One day instead of practicing with my group I sat and watched the Advanced-Pro class of beautiful young women. Suddenly my class’ dances were put in perspective: we were the background music. These sirens were so outrageously lovely and moved so fluidly with such sexuality and grace that I realized no one at the Gala would be watching — could be watching — anyone else but them. It dawned on me that the athletic suppleness of Tahitian dance is made for young and limber bodies but the open-hearted culture allows everyone to take part in the fun. We all had our place in the show in the way that suited us best. Every aparima and otea told a story and created a frame in which the Advanced-Pro girls could set the stage on fire. And these dancers were literally going to set the scene aflame with giant fiery batons for one of their fast otea dances; my group would perform a gentle aparima with humble little candles just afterwards.

Our show was supposed to be at the Gauguin Museum Restaurant in the low-key village of Papeari, but there was some problem and the location was no longer available. Heirani announced we would now be dancing at To’ata Amphitheater in Papeete, the biggest venue in the country where all the big professional dances and the Heiva I Tahiti performances take place. Posters were put up all over the island, Heirani, was interviewed about the show for several local TV shows and articles were written about our troupe in the newspaper. Our show would be one of the biggest and first performances of the dance season leading up to the Heiva. Some of the Advanced-Pro dances would go on to the Heiva.

Without really being conscious of what had happened, I had gone from casually taking dance classes to committing to dance in five different numbers in front of over 2000 people in the capital city. But I was ready — I was having a ball and couldn’t have cared less if my hips made thousands of people giggle.

Yesterday: Tahitian dance chronicles, part one: Getting hooked
Tomorrow: Tahitian dance chronicles, part three: Dancing towards a new adventure

[Photos: Celeste Brash]