June 16, 2005
Immensely Impressive: Wynn Las Vegas Hotel
I'll counterweight the Paris Las Vegas hotel experience with a Wynn Las Vegas hotel experience. A friend of mine who owns his own business decided to book a suite at Wynn Las Vegas, the brand new, luxury-beyond-luxury hotel built by Steve Wynn. It was spectacular. Twenty-foot panoramic windows overlooking the strip, granite-topped bar, rain shower, hydrotherapy tub, stunning red couches, a guest bathroom, and a massage room to push it all over the top. The master bathroom was bigger than my master bedroom at home! The casino itself was reserved elegance, there wasn't the gaudy, cringing sound of screaming slot machines, there was no smoky haze over the craps tables, there were high ceilings and flower arrangements. I remember when the Bellagio first opened and I got a glimpse of the Chihuly-flowered lobby ceiling. To me, the Bellagio was a turning point for Las Vegas. The hotel still spent gross amounts of money to attract visitors, but that money was spent on Picassos and a graceful water show set to classical music rather than on the pyrotechnic prattle of Treasure Island's pirate show. Another example of high culture pervading Las Vegas, the small Guggenheim museum situated in the Venetian. On a previous visit, I managed to slip away for an hour to take a tour led by the museum's curator. Food has also stepped up a notch in Vegas. When I was a kid, it used to be all about the $5.95 all-you-can-eat buffet, which featured aspic painted ham or roast beef sitting under the red light of a heat lamp for hours on end. There were also the $6.95 prime rib dinners. I still love those bargain basement dinner deals, but they're not Nobu, they're not Red 8, they're not Aureole. And, Vegas has become a shopping mecca! I used to think that the Forum Shops at Caeser's was heaven, with its laser light show and knick-knacks galore. But since Aladdin re-did the Desert Passage, there is simply no where else to go. The whole place feels like an exotic bazaar with various kiosks and peddlers, and cabbed bikes available to transport you from one end to the other. Desert Passage is also home to my very favorite jewelry shop, a little kiosk just past the hookah vendor. They always seem to have the most unique little bling-blings, I have not once been able to go there without whipping out my credit card for one bauble or another. Hopefully next time I head out to the City of Sin, I won't be there on business. I'll be there for fun.
Posted by carolyn at 09:24 PM | Comments (0)
June 14, 2005
Ever-unimpressive: Paris Las Vegas Hotel
When I was a kid, my parents and I used to drive from San Diego to Las Vegas once a summer. I loved the city even then, back in its seedy days before the Bellagio and Wynn Las Vegas. I loved the bright, flamingo-colored lights of the Hilton; the hot, dry sun; the smell of suntan oil and fruity drinks with paper parasols. Now that I'm older, I still have those yearly pilgrimages to the City of Sin, but more often than not, it's for some conference or the other. The gritty Vegas I remember as a kid has given way to luxury spas and Zagat-rated restaurants. Not that I mind, I've never had the attention-span to gamble, I'm more of the poolside lounger. For this visit, I decided to stay at Paris Las Vegas. I have fond memories of an almond croissant enjoyed at the hotel's Le Notre cafe many years ago. The pseudo-cobblestone paths winding through the casino perfectly blend casual non-chalance with the typical Vegas overstatement. Unfortunately, the Paris Las Vegas hotel did not meet expectations. As soon as I checked in, I headed straight for the pool. Alas, the attendant booth was not staffed, and the cabana boys were stacking chaise lounges with nary a concern for hotel guests. When the attendant finally came back, she informed us that no towels were available, they were still being laundered. Almost inconceivable, a higher-end Las Vegas hotel that ran out of towels at 4p in the afternoon. There was no offer to bring us a towel, so we all shifted uncomfortably on the hot concrete pavement, one foot to the other, until the towels were wheeled out. But that was only the start of a long string of discontents. I was expecting a FedEx package to be delivered to the hotel. I also expected to receive it at check-in. Seems a simple thing to me, the hotel knew I was going to check-in at a certain time, it should have been second-nature to have my package waiting for me at the front desk. Instead, I was given a phone number to call and schedule a delivery. Alright, so I did. I was told to expect the package in five minutes, it took a half hour. I don't know why, but I still tipped the delivery guy, more out of habit than anything else. Additionally, there was no coffee machine in the room. It is such a simple appliance, so integral to neverending Vegas evenings, in a hotel that strives to be ooh-la-la French! And it just kept getting worse! At 3am in the morning, I discovered the need for a feminine hygiene product. Called down to the front desk, was put on hold, then transferred, then told to visit the shop by the elevators. Again, it doesn't seem like a massive undertaking to have one sent up via room service or via maid service. The final blow came as I was leaving to catch my 8:30a flight back to Chicago. Le Notre was not yet open (and still remains the sole saving grace of the Paris Las Vegas hotel), so I went to the more formal cafe across the casino to get a cup of coffee and breakfast to go. I was told, "Sorry, we don't do take-out." Now perhaps I've become too much of a citygirl, but it would seem to me that a bagel could be served both on a plate and on a napkin with the same effect. By that point, I was so tired of Paris Las Vegas' lack of customer service, I didn't even put up a fight. It seemed more effort than it was worth to say, "I'll have the egg-bagel sandwich, hold the plate, hold the silverware." What was even more amusing is that no comment cards were available in the rooms, and were not offered upon checkout. I had to ask for a comment card post checkout, and this was even after I informed the front desk that I worked in the travel industry. Unbelievable.
Posted by carolyn at 09:20 PM | Comments (0)