Yellow Swordfish

The ‘smoking’ area of the Hotel Washington is just outside the back door standing out on the junction of F Street with 15th. The first time I went out there I had a bit of a shock as I found myself face to face with this big guy in dark glasses, dark suit and a wire creeping out of his collar that ended in his ear. The road was closed off and his job was to make sure nobody tried to open it again.

Glancing down F street I could see a large contingent of very black vehicles and more earnest young men, one with a dog, and a large tent covering the back entrance of the Willard Hotel next door.

Now these guys don’t talk to you so there is no point in trying to start a conversation. They know they look mean and they know the power they have over just about anyone else who doesn’t have the suit, the glasses and the earpiece. But hotel staff talk. And word on the street is that Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is holed up in the Willard for the week.

Everyone around here believes it and is repeating this as fact. The earnest young men, their dog and big black vehicles are still out there staring everyone down but nobody seems to have told then that Ahmadinejad has flown the coop. According to the BBC website he delivered a speech today in Tehran.

Which begs the question: Just who IS holed up in the Willard for the week? Or - can the president of Iran be in two places at the same time?

Hotel Washington

I am currently on vacation - in the middle of a weeks stay in Washington DC before heading up to New York. I’ve been to this city before but this time, my hotel of choice was fully booked so it was time to find somewhere new. I rarely give a ‘review’ of anything but sometimes, something can be so good, or so bad, that it merits a mention. The Hotel Washington indeed falls into the category of ‘I really must warn people about this place’.

It looked pretty good on the website. Located on Pennsylvania and 15th directly opposite the US Treasury building with the White House behind it, it seemed to have it all. Location, grandeur, history. Instead, it is quite simply the worst US hotel I have ever stayed in. Beware of this place.

When you arrive at this $400 a night sorry place there is no doorman or porter to lug your cases up the front steps. At reception you are met by the most humourless old woman imagineable who has quite clearly had her smile muscles removed. The corridor outside our room looked like it hadn’t seen a vacuum cleaner for a month. The room was pokey. The bathroom door doesn’t even close let along lock. The luxurious marble bath is, in fact, an ordinary white bath surrounded in marble effect tiling. And the luxurious rug is a fluffy floor mat.

Having been here a few days now I realise that not smiling and being polite to customers must be a hotel policy. The waiting staff are just the same. As you sit at breakfast eating your cold sausage, bacon and egg wondering where the hell the pot of tea you requested has got to let alone why don’t I have a napkin, the waitresses walk past your table scowling as if daring you to ask for something. It’s not worth asking as in reality, the best thing to do is to get the hell out of the hotel as quick as possible.

OK - this was once a pretty grand place even if always upstaged by the Willard next door. It is now on the lower rungs of hotel life with delusions that it can still cut the mustard. A few smiles, some flowers and those little things like little bottles of shampoo in the bathroom and enough towels would go an awful long way to lift the spirits of the customers.

The Tipping Dilemma

Many years ago I had the good fortune to spend some time in New Zealand. At one point I was staying at the delightful Chateau Tongariro when I was approached in the bar by a newly arrived American tourist seeking advice, who had heard me speak and discerned that I wasn’t a native. What he desperately wanted to know was how much he should tip the staff.

I do not know what it is like today but in 1980’s New Zealand there was absolutely no ‘tipping’ culture. Trying to tip a waiter, for example, could get quite embarrassing as they tried to work out what you were giving them the money for. They usually tried to give it back! Coming from England, where tipping is a hit and miss affair anyway, I quickly learned this. My American friend, steeped as he was in a tipping culture, couldn’t get his head around this at all! Having tried to tip and had it refused his first thought was that he had insulted the barman by offering too little. I explained to him that he just had to resist the urge to get out his wallet and to be polite instead. He went away muttering to himself!

But I understood his dilemma and still do in fact. I know the basic rule of thumb in the USA - 15%. And that’s easy to deal with when you are faced with a restaurant bill or a taxi fare. But I have always been a little uncertain about the guy who brings your baggage to your room. Or even more difficult, the guy who walks down three flight of stairs into the cavernous car park and brings your car to the hotel door just when you need it. What do you give them? You don’t want to appear mean and miserly - after all, you want him to fetch the car tomorrow as well. But at the same time you don’t really want to be throwing money around like confetti.

I thought about all of this when I stumbled upon ‘Travel Sense - Tips on Tipping this morning. This suggests a dollar a bag to the bellman and a dollar or two for the valet parking.

So now I know I have been over-tipping for years!