We just got back to our hotel room after a disaster at the ice rink, ogling the ultra-expensive goodies at the Embarcadero Center, and going back to my roots in the Haight-Ashbury. I thought you might like to see pictures of the horrible hotel Hubster has put me up in. Please bear in mind that these are stock photos the hotel provides in their ad for this room, but it will give you an idea of the hovel I've had to deal with.
This is a view of the room as you walk down the hallway leading in from the door (yes, there's a hallway with hardwood flooring).
This is a skyway which connects the two towers. The view out of both sides is breathtaking.
The tub and the view you have as you recline in it.
This is the view out the window opposite the bed.
The reception desk, looking at it from down the hall.
What you don't see is even more spectacular. The bathroom is off the entry hall before you walk into the main part of the room. It's all marble; the tub has a shower attachment with a long hose so you can stand and hose off all the bubbles and soap. The shower is separate and also all marble. There's a full-length mirror in there so you can see how horrible you look just before you climb into the tub. It's... it's... oh lord almighty.
The views from all the windows are to die for. Out of one window is the Bay. Coit Tower is also there; you can see all the way to the North Bay (Sausalito, Tiburon, etc.), as well as the Golden Gate. The other two windows offer views of the City. We can see Chinatown, Broadway (the adult fun zone), the Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, The Cannery, and all the other famous parts of the City. Right next to us and just outside the window is the Transamerica Tower. They even provide you with binoculars so you can see everything up close and personal. It's spectacular at night - Alcatraz is lit up, and you can see inside the cell block (its between the Transamerica and Coit Tower). The searchlight still turns to capture all those inmates whose ghosts are trying to swim across to the shore. Let's just say that the views out of all the windows (including the one next to the tub) would make anybody weak in the knees.
So when we checked in yesterday, they put us on the 47th floor (there are 48 total). Then the doorbell started ringing (yes, we have a doorbell). First, the bellman came in with our luggage. Then the maid came in to turn down the bed, placed a rug next to each side of the bed so we wouldn't get out feet dirty on the immaculate carpet, and laid out a pair of slippers for each of us (supplied by the hotel). Then the doorbell rang again, and a guy from the hotel came in bearing a silver platter with an ice bucket on it (and a bottle of brut champagne in the bucket), as well as two champagne flutes and a box of chocolates. He poured the champagne for us, wished us a Happy Anniversary, and discretely withdrew.
The hotel has a bath menu, where you can order certain bath packages. I ordered one which they happened to be out of, so they put one together for me. Two people came in; one of them put eucalyptus stuff in the tub and ran the bath; then she plucked petals from three roses and put them in the tub and around it on the marble surround. The other one set out an assortment of oils, lotions, scrubs, stress-release gel, and a bunch of other stuff. No sooner had they left than the last part of the package appeared - a pitcher of Cosmopolitans. I got pretty well potted while I soaked in a hot bath with sweet-smelling goodies and that view to stare at. At some point, I either passed out or fell asleep in the tub and awoke about an hour later. That water was still hot - I was blown away. So I scrubbed up using the exfoliating stuff made from olives, hosed off, and put on my jammies. Wow. I fell asleep immediately. Since I get to take all those smellies home, I think I've found the key to getting to bed and sleeping.
We had room service last night. It was divine. The food was incredibly good, especially for room service. We ate like pigs, Hubster drank a lot of straight Kentucky whiskey that came in these darling little bottles with wax seals, I drank almost the whole pitcher of Cosmos, and we collapsed in the bed. I didn't want to get up. I still don't want to leave. I want to crawl in that bed with the down feather bed on top of the mattress, a down comforter, and down pillows. Ohhhhh.
Today, I got the bright idea of going ice skating at the outdoor rink. I got the skates on just fine and walked over to Hubster. Then we hit the ice. Well, I hit the ice. Three times. The third time jarred everything in my pelvis loose. Hubster fell once. I was so disappointed. I remember gliding across ice with no effort. My ankles hurt, my legs hurt, my ass hurt, everything hurt and was wet from the ice. At least I tried. So we cabbed to the Wharf, had dinner, and cabbed to the Haight, where I got a new body piercing (like I need another one). We looked around a bit, but the Haight isn't like it used to be. The sidewalks rolled up at 9:00 p.m. At least it was fun window-shopping. Oh... we also went to the Embarcadero Center between falling down on the ice and dinner. It's a huge shopping/dining complex that fills four buildings. Too expensive for us, especially after paying for this room. I won't tell you how much it is, but you could probably put a down payment on a car for what we've spent these past two days.
So now I'm getting ready to order a creme anglaise tart from room service, take another bath (sans the rose petals), and then recline on the chaise next to the window for some knitting before bed. Tomorrow, we check out and are hitting Artyarns before we leave.
This is, hands down, the most elegant, beautiful, customer-oriented hotel that I've ever stayed in (it's rated five-stars and is supposedly the finest in the City). We stayed here last year for our anniversary, but in a room which wasn't as nice as this one. We're saving for the suite next year - it has an outdoor patio where you can dine or just stare at the view.
I'll be home late tomorrow, so I'll be posting on Saturday and updating the yarn review page. This has been the best anniversary I've ever had, which makes going home a double-edged sword. I won't have everyone catering to me, I won't have rich, delicious food served to me, I won't have the views, and I have to return to the shitbox.
But I'll have the memories.