Opus Hotel Blog

The Day the Earth Stood Still

2009-05-13T04:56:00.000-07:00

By Daniel Edward Craig

For the residents, businesses and visitors to Yaletown who have endured construction of the Canada Line underground rapid transit station these past three years, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, it’s a speeding train—a Canada Line train. Whether it will flatten us with a railcar of problems—traffic, parking, security—or will transport our neighbourhood to a new level of cosmopolitanism remains to be seen.

The good news is the gaping pit that’s been clogging Yaletown’s main artery and affecting business since 2006 has been filled, and Davie Street is now reopen. Recently, government officials announced that Canada Line will be open by Labour Day, three months ahead of schedule. Soon passengers will be whisked from Yaletown to the airport in 22 minutes and downtown in just three minutes. Before the thunder of bulldozers fades away, a little reflection is in order.

I’ll never forget that day in 2005 when a group of super-friendly people from a company called Ravco came to visit me at Opus Hotel and told me about plans for a high-speed rail project linking the airport to Richmond and Vancouver. Yaletown would have its own underground station, directly across the street from the hotel, and it would take three years to build. I was crestfallen. Since opening in 2002, Opus had ranked as one of the top hotels in the city in occupancy and guest satisfaction. Soon our clean, safe, highly-desirable heritage neighourhood would be overrun by bulldozers, dump trucks and butt-crack-baring construction workers. As the hotel’s general manager I did what any great leader would do: I locked myself in my office and had a good cry. Then I went online to look for a new job.

At Opus we were deeply concerned about the impacts of construction on our guests. Hotels, which run on the promise of comfort and rest, typically remain quiet about construction, hoping guests won’t notice the jack-hammering in the lobby. One of our employees suggested we try something radical: we tell guests the truth. The idea was immediately dismissed as preposterous. But it fit in with our organizational values of integrity and respect, and when no one came up with a better solution, we decided to give it a whirl. From that point forward callers were informed about construction activity at time of reservation. Rooms closest to construction were sold at a discount. A construction notice was posted on our website and in our confirmation letters, and a note was placed in rooms to explain the project.

It was a nail-biting risk. We were providing our guests a reason to stay elsewhere and our competitors a weapon to use against us. Many of our rooms didn’t face the construction site and activity was sporadic—why alarm all guests when only a few would be disturbed? Transparency threatened to only exacerbate the problem.

Yet to ignore construction can be far more damaging to a hotel. While a guest at a hotel in Atlanta, I endured drilling next door for three days before I complained. I was transferred to the duty manager’s line, and I left a message. I didn’t hear back. The next day a gift basket was delivered to my room, complete with a jar of Georgian peach salsa. There was no note or business card, so I wasn’t sure who it came from. Meanwhile, the drilling turned to jack-hammering. I left another message for the duty manager, requesting to change rooms. Again, no call back. That night, another gift arrived, a slab of chocolate that vaguely resembled the hotel’s logo. It had melted—much like my resolve to fight. I checked out the next day and, as much as I enjoyed the peach salsa, I won’t be staying there again.

Another misguided tactic is to make light of construction. Years ago, when I worked at the Westin Harbour Castle in Toronto, to make light of lobby renovations management decided to dress up two front desk employees each shift as construction workers. One day, upon reporting for duty I was handed a hardhat and an orange vest. “I don’t think so,” I said, handing them back—the hotel’s polyester uniform was humiliating enough. I was overruled. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying the construction worker role-play thing—until an irate guest stormed up to me and began ranting about not getting a harbour view. Partway through, he stopped, blinked, and said, “What the hell are you wearing?” The hats and vests were discontinued shortly thereafter.

As part of its efforts to soften the impact of construction, Canada Line formed a business liaison communications committee comprising of representatives from local businesses and various stakeholders. I sat on this committee for two years, and at the monthly meetings I was often either trembling with rage or nodding off in boredom. We small businesses felt powerless at times, a motley crew of Dr. Dooms and Debbie Downers pitted against a slick group of big-business executives, government and spin doctors. Sometimes I wondered if Canada Line officials fantasized about working in a totalitarian regime, where residents find out about an infrastructure project when a wrecking ball crashes through their home.

Despite assurances otherwise, construction cut off direct access to the hotel’s underground parkade, obliging our valets to drive several blocks to reach the side entrance to our own building. To ease the pressure we were granted access to an area in front of the hotel to stage cars. We parked luxury vehicles there, hoping to distract from the logo-plastered hording, the dirt and the portable toilets. Canada Line officials promised to support beleaguered businesses but patronized Opus only occasionally. One of the only contractors who did stay complained about construction noise and insisted on being moved to a quieter room.

Opus lost its share of business due to construction, and we had to work hard to appease some of our guests. Yet by being transparent we built a relationship of trust with our clientele, and our guest satisfaction ratings remained high throughout. Damage is inevitable in a project of this magnitude, and Yaletown has suffered more than its share, albeit less visibly so compared to the devastation along Cambie Street. Overall I think Canada Line and its stakeholders did an admirable job of working with Yaletown businesses. Even when delivering bad news they were so courteous it was impossible to stay angry—a tactic I suspect they appropriated from the hotel industry. The construction workers were respectful too, and I didn’t see a butt crack the entire time, which admittedly was a bit disappointing.

Despite the obvious challenges, Opus has been a supporter of Canada Line from the beginning. I would have even been more enthusiastic had the station been built elsewhere—like next to one of our competitor hotels. But few areas of downtown Vancouver have been completely spared the headaches of construction in the lead-up to the 2010 Olympics. On a trip to the waterfront two years ago, I was shocked by the loud, unrelenting “Ping!” resonating from the convention centre expansion site. I asked an employee of a nearby hotel how he could stand the noise. “Noise? What noise?” he said, his upper cheek twitching with each ping.

In December 2007, at the height of construction, I left my position as general manager of Opus and passed my hardhat to my successor, Nicholas Gandossi. Today, as we celebrate the reinstatement of Davie Street, we’re filled with gratitude to our guests for being so understanding and cool. We look forward to welcoming the new clientele that this efficient, environmentally-friendly transit system will carry to our doorstep, and we hope that Canada Line will fulfill its promise to leave Yaletown even better than when construction began.

See the modified version of this post published in The Vancouver Sun.

Emerging Trends in the Hotel Industry: A Lighthearted Approach

2009-03-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

by Daniel Edward Craig

The hotel industry is built on cheerfulness and spirited optimism, yet in these challenging economic times it’s getting increasingly difficult for employees to hold their smile. Amidst all the doom and gloom I thought I’d take a more lighthearted approach to identifying some of the trends emerging in the hotel industry.

1. Everything learned in revenue management training has gone out the window. Hysteria rules the day as hotels drop rates, get indignant when competitors drop rates in response, and then panic and drop rates even further. All inventory is now treated as distressed inventory, erasing years of brand-equity-building and training travelers to look for the best deals on third-party websites. It will take years to recover from these rate wars, and the only winner is the traveler.

2. Travelers are becoming more demanding and less forgiving. Acutely aware of the hotel industry’s desperation to fill rooms, travelers are demanding even deeper discounts and more value add-ons while at the same time refusing to tolerate the cuts to services hotels have been forced to implement to stay afloat, posting nasty comments on TripAdvisor like “Save your money! This hotel has gone to hell!!”

3. Service levels are nose-diving. The labor shortage crisis of 2008, when hoteliers blamed poor service levels on lack of employee resources, has given way to the job shortage crisis of 2009, in which hoteliers now blame poor service levels on tight labor budgets. Managers have been forced to cover frontline shifts to save labor costs, thereby revealing they have no clue how their department operates, resulting in a deluge of missed wakeup calls, accounting errors and guests checked into occupied rooms.

4. Eco-friendly initiatives are being tossed into the recycling bin. Faced with the grim realization that going green costs money, hotels are instead opting for programs that guilt the guest into making the sacrifices, such as the now-ubiquitous optional towel and sheet replacement program. Having discovered that guests will tolerate plastic recycling bins and off-white tissue paper, hotels will begin to phase out those cute little bottles of shampoo, blackberry jam and Dijon mustard in favor of “eco-friendly” (cheap) bulk offerings.

5. Automation and do-it-yourself options are replacing costly employees. Hotel managers, faced with the horror of having to deal with guests themselves, are considering previously unthinkable initiatives like automated check-in kiosks. New labor-saving programs will include make-your-own-bed-and-breakfast packages, do-it-yourself luggage carts, and computers standing in for concierges. Meanwhile, all gratuitous positions created during the halcyon days like “tanning concierge”, “dream butler” and “pillow consultant” have been summarily retired.

6. The trend toward offering more healthful food choices in restaurants, room service and mini-bars is being reversed. Hotels have discovered that cheeseburgers, Coke and Kit Kats sell better and are more profitable.

7. Lifestyle hotels are popping everywhere though travelers still have no idea what they are. Customization will be taken a step further, with such options as the daily repainting of rooms to match the guest’s wardrobe, smart lighting that adjusts according to the guest’s mood, and hotels designed exclusively for germophobes, anarchists and narcissists. Meanwhile, lifestyle hotels continue to confuse guests with cutesy names for traditional positions like “comfort consultant” for housekeeper, “personal nutritionist” for waitress and “ambassador to happiness” for front desk agent.

8. Complimentary amenities are mysteriously vanishing. “Amenity Creep”, the one-upmanship game hotels played during prosperous times by adding superfluous items like lip balm, wrinkle cream and nose-hair trimmers, has given way to “Amenity Retreat”, in which all but essential items are being removed and guests will soon be charged for non-essential items like blankets, soap and hot water. Dog-friendly hotels are also being phased out as hotels realize that dogs are not hotel-friendly.

9. The boutique-hotel-as-nightclub trend will spread to traditional hotels like Ritz Carlton, Fairmont and Four Seasons. Lobbies will morph into late-night clubs, with Bach concertos replaced by techno grooves from in-house DJs. Traditional doormen in Beefeater-style uniforms will be supplanted by lobby hostesses in booty shorts, and the mantra “It’s my pleasure, sir” will surrender to “Hey, no problem, man.”

10. Standalone hotels will become a thing of the past. Mixed-use developments, in which hotels are housed in the same complex as condos, retail outlets and office space and condo owners shoulder the burden of costly hotel construction by paying for access to services they will never use, will expand to include hospitals, churches and crematoriums to ensure guests never check out.

The Devil, the Details, and Pierre

2008-12-04T17:48:00.000-08:00

A recent guest took our Lifestyle Concierge quiz and was so surprised by his similarities to Pierre he sent us this letter. We thought you’d enjoy.

To: Mr. Nicholas Gandossi, General Manager

I have just spent an evening at your trendy little address in Vancouver and felt I should convey my observations for the sake of fellow travelers, loungers and food lovers.

A little selective disclosure: I travel extensively, have enjoyed all manner of lodgings, from the piteous to the posh, and have come to appreciate good food and fine wine. In short, according to your Lifestyle Concierge quiz, I am “Pierre”, right down to my strong preference for all things French. That you were able to peg my profile so closely borders on privacy invasion – if it weren’t so flattering.

First impressions: If your staff were any more accommodating, I might believe they actually enjoy what they do (perhaps they get paid too much – you might want to look into that). “We’ll have our hotel car take you there.” “I’m sure we can launder your shirt for this evening.” “We’ll see what we can do about finding a replacement sock.” (Don’t ask.) It all got to be a bit tiresome, I must say. I take great pleasure in finding fault, and deeply resented being deprived of such.

A hotel reveals itself not all at once but in layers of nuanced and subtle detail, like a beautiful woman or, in culinary terms, an onion. Take your fitness room. Bright and well equipped indeed, but was that larger-than-life, nude mural near the entrance meant to motivate or mock me? The closest I will ever get to becoming this Adam of Eden was one of the complimentary apples, which at first seemed like a consolation prize, but as the evening progressed became more a symbol of temptation. Then again, I could have been reading too much into it.

As for my room, like Pierre, I approved of its “airy and fresh décor, a tad conservative, eclectic and cozy” reflecting my “tony and traditional lifestyle” (your words not mine, and if I may you’re trying just a bit too hard). However, I do have a quibble about the “intimacy kit” in the amenity drawer: thoughtful, yes, but only one prophylactic? A bit lacking for someone of my prowess. The last thing I want to worry about while in flagrante is whether supplies will run out, to say nothing of the awkward conversation with room service (you try tipping without pockets). And the oxygen dispenser? This is Vancouver for heaven’s sake, not Mexico City. Yet I had to confess it might come in handy and placed it next to the intimacy kit. As for the bathroom and its enormous window overlooking the room, I love the open concept – a little voyeuristic and naughty (parts of my profile your quiz missed) – but my 82-year-old grandmother might see it differently.

A word about your car service. The BMW 7 Series is built for speed and should to be driven as such. I was totally unimpressed with your driver’s insistence on going the speed limit and adamantly refusing my commands to cut other drivers off and jump meridians. Yes, there were small children in the area, but I was late for my fitting at Harry Rosen, and small children have never impeded my drivers in Paris. A small suggestion: send driving staff to the Grand Prix for training.

I had been looking forward to a drink at notorious hotspot Opus Bar, so was disappointed that it wasn’t busier. Yes, it was rather early, but it was cocktail hour somewhere in the world. Kristina, my sultry waitress, informed me that staff were setting up for a private party that evening, “when the real debauchery begins.” I took that thought with me to the loo, where the only thing that separates the boys from the girls, besides the obvious, is a window. My poor grandmother would have had to hold her bladder all night long. To my delight I found video screens mounted above the urinals, allowing me to spy on people in the lounge while relieving myself. Two were broken, however, and I was obliged to wait in line for one that worked, and then rejoin the line after others complained I was taking too long. Kindly repair.

Now, I’m no Anton Ego (the uber-critic from Ratatouille) but like him, I have a soft spot for simple dishes, perfectly prepared. The menu at Elixir was inventive and inviting, if a bit rich. Bypassing the lobster bisque and biodynamic risotto, I followed my inner “Ego” and chose the rib-eye, with pecorino and truffle oil pommes frites, all preceded by the poached pears, for balance of course. As I sipped an exquisite glass of Garry Oaks Fetish (you know me so well), I couldn’t help but be baffled by Elixir’s French-bistro décor and its contrast to the ultra chic Opus Bar only metres away. It was as if the two venues were competing. If they were, Opus Bar won, because as much as I love fine cuisine I love les jolies femmes even more. There, Kristina had been true to her word: by 11:00 pm the party had spilled into the lobby (ever hear of a retaining wall?) and the area resembled a mosh pit – granted, with the most beautiful and fragrant bodies one might ever be accidentally pushed against.

In the interest of discretion I feel obliged to wrap things up here. In conclusion, would I return to your hotel? Let me simply say this: If the devil is in the details, then she must have a room at Opus.

Yours truly,
“Pierre”

P.S. I’m only slightly exaggerating when I say the Tylenol and oxygen canister brought me back to life on Saturday morning. Whoever put them in the mini-bar deserves a promotion.

Home Sweet Hotel

2008-10-29T14:06:00.000-07:00

The increasing popularity of condo-hotel developments has put within reach a lifestyle previously reserved for the rich and famous: living in a hotel. Having been living in a hotel myself for the past few months, I’ve discovered that it’s not as always as glamorous as it sounds. For any aspiring Donald Trumps out there, a cautionary tale.

Earlier this year, I was approached about relocating to Montreal to live on property as a consultant to the management team of Opus Montreal. With visions of a grandiose lifestyle, I signed a three-month contract. But just prior to my departure things took an unexpected turn when the general manager resigned. Suddenly, I would no longer be working bankers’ hours as an overpaid consultant. I’d be on the front lines as the hotel’s acting resident manager.

Upon arrival I was installed in chic and modern room with red walls. It was only 325 square feet, and had no kitchen, balcony or vibrating bed, but we human beings are natural nesters, and soon it felt like home. The advantages of hotel living became immediately obvious: I would never have to run a vacuum; I had an army of staff on standby to cater to my every whim; and my commute was a short elevator ride to the lobby. I could order room service every night, watch pay movies, and raid the mini-bar—all for free. Each night my bed was turned down for me, chocolates placed on my pillow, and toilet paper rolls tucked into a perfect fold. I had little bottles of shampoo, blackberry jam and vodka, all just for me.

The work was all-consuming, but I loved being back in the thick of things. Then one day it occurred to me I hadn’t left the property in three days. I had earned respect for the hours I worked, but it was only because I had no friends and had nothing better to do. I was getting lazy, spoiled and out of shape. The hotel’s food was amazing, but sometimes I just wanted a peanut butter sandwich. Serious changes were in order. I filled my mini-bar with healthy foods, purchased a microwave and toaster, reduced housekeeping visits to once per week, and started going to a local gym.

Remember Eloise, that precocious six-year-old in children’s storybooks who lived in the penthouse suite at New York’s Plaza Hotel? She always found time for mischief. The difference between Eloise and me is I’m running the joint, which takes all the fun out of hotel living. I’m acutely aware that employees are observing me. Not that I’m paranoid, I’m just a bit neurotic. I don’t want the maid to think I’m a slob, so I make the bed and wipe down the sink before she cleans my room. I’m convinced that restaurant staff hate me because, in accordance with industry practice, I tip only 10% on meals. And while I love how my clothes come back from dry-cleaning all pressed and fresh-smelling, the thought of colleagues sorting through my dirty laundry is a bit unsettling.

One of the allures of hotels is anonymity. Guests can check in, make a mess, be obnoxious, and check out with impunity. I don’t have that luxury here. I can’t be grumpy or difficult, and I can’t stumble in drunk with two hookers on my arms. Not that I ever would, but the fact that I can’t feels oppressive. There’s a nightclub here, Suco, and I’ve considered hanging out there and trying to meet some cool, beautiful Montreal types, but I fear they’ll think I’m a sad, desperate predator, the resident lounge lizard. Fortunately, it’s not really an issue because I can’t stay awake past 10:00. Well, not usually. On a recent Saturday I went out to “faire la fête” with friends from Vancouver and got back at 5:00 AM. Not wanting staff to see me, I skulked through the back entrance, only to run smack into a couple of bar staff getting off shift. “Fun night, Mr. Craig?” one of them asked with a snicker.

When I spend too much time in my room I start to worry I’m becoming Howard Hughes, with those crazed eyes and long yellow toenails. I try to get out more, but unlike at home I don’t have the freedom to wander around in my bathrobe. Even during my time off I feel uncomfortable in jeans because hotel employees aren't supposed to wear street clothes in public areas. I think the rule has something to do with guests not wanting to know that the staff they’re abusing are real people. Returning from the gym one night, I had to deal with a situation in the lobby in a sweaty muscle shirt and shorts. Another time I was crossing the lobby in my weekend casuals when a gaggle of irate meeting planners accosted me. Six hours later they released me from their clutches.

When I’m in my street clothes I’m never sure how to behave around guests. Do I act like one of them and avoid eye contact? Or do I act like an employee and smile, engaging them in friendly conversation? I’ve found that the latter approach can lead to frantic elevator-button pressing, particularly from Torontonians. Around employees I feel obligated to speak French, or at least to mumble a few badly-pronounced words to show my deep respect for the culture. But, like other Canadian students, after four years of university French I discovered I couldn’t speak a word. I’m taking lessons now, but I’m pretty sure my instructor thinks I have a severe learning disability. Sometimes it’s just easier to stay in my room.

When I travel I like to bring a magazine down to the hotel restaurant and read over dinner. Here I find myself in Koko holding impromptu meetings with staff and guests, signing purchase orders, and sometimes even bussing tables while my food goes cold and my magazine sits unread. I don’t mind, though. Meetings are so much more enjoyable with a glass of wine in my hand.

In September a citywide convention coincided with a strike at several Montreal hotels, leaving a number of hotels overbooked. One night I got mired in a nasty relocate situation with a group of travel-weary Germans. They returned to Opus the next day, and every time I ran into them—far too often since we were cohabitating—they stared daggers at me. To avoid relocating more guests I packed my bags to free up my room and moved into an office. That night, as I stared up at the ceiling from my little cot and thought about all the happy people out there in apartments, I realized I had never been surrounded by so many people yet felt so alone.

Recently, my contract was extended. These days, I make my own bed, eat out most of the time, and even have a few friends. Yet the longer I live in the hotel the more it consumes me. Resistance is futile. I’ve considered renting an apartment, but the truth is I’d miss it. There’s no better way to manage a hotel than to eat, sleep and breathe it. But would I ever move into a condo-hotel complex? Not likely. I don't mind opening my own doors.

Is Green the new Black?

2008-07-02T23:02:00.000-07:00

Fashion houses are tripping over themselves to start the latest organic seaweed line, and celebrities tightly corseted in jade-coloured silk grace covers of ‘Green-Edition’ glossies (hello, Madonna’s done 3 of ‘em). It begs the question, is green the new black? I pondered this question from 35 000 feet in the air, on my 3rd non-offset cross- country flight in nearly as many weeks.

More accurately, I struggled to write a few words about the eco-creds of the luxury travel industry. As Rita Selvan, editor of Elle Canada wryly notes in June’s edition, it’s kind of tricky to ‘talk green when the very nature of your business doesn’t exactly scream green’. Well put. She comments, ‘it’s no picnic preaching green from the perfumed perch of a fashion magazine’. Well try the luxury hotel industry, arbiter of taste, style and it must be said, excess. High thread-count sheets (bleached bone white, natch), delicacies flown in from 4 corners of the world for discerning diners, lilliputian bottles of shampoo/conditioner/cleanser/. No expense spared, and all de rigueur. When the guest’s paying top dollar, they expect the best.

Increasingly, being green no longer comes at the expense of earning green – or providing a luxury product. In fact, a lot of travelers want to know what their hotels are doing to be more environmentally friendly – and will make their choices based on this information. This hasn’t been lost on chains such as Fairmont which command high prices, while leading the industry in their commitment to lessen their impact on the environment. Entrepreneurial hoteliers around the world are opening eco-lodges, eco-resorts, and eco-spas to capitalize on the earnest/well meaning/curious/affluent.

What can guests do to lighten luxury’s footprint? A few suggestions for your next hotel stay at Opus.

Re-use your towels and linens. Using the same towel or sheets cuts down on phosphates and water usage.

When you’re out, turn off all lights and music, and turn down the thermostat.

Unplug your laptop! Even when it’s off, leaving it plugged in uses energy.

Recycle. Every room has a bin for your convenience…please use it! We’ll even sort it for you.

Sightseeing? Instead of driving, walk or use one of Opus Vancouver’s complimentary bikes.

Next time you fly, off-set a portion of your flight with carbon credits. Hang on to those ‘free’ earsets that come with purchase of your thousand dollar ticket. The airlines don’t recycle them, so at least you can reuse them.

Rent a hybrid car (or at least a compact vehicle) next time you’re traveling.

Speaking of hybrids, Opus recently decided to offer guests driving hybrids cars free valet parking. Their vehicle choice benefits all of us, so we’re extending a little benefit back to them.

If you’re curious to check out what else Opus is doing to try and reduce its impact on the environment, visit our About Us section. As a famous frog once said, It’s not Easy Being Green. But we all need to start somewhere.

Return of the Intrepid Blogger

2008-06-03T12:25:00.001-07:00

By Daniel Edward Craig

It’s me again! Did you miss me? Did you even notice I was gone? Don’t worry, I haven’t returned to my old job as general manager of Opus. I’ve been asked to do a Special Guest Star appearance on this blog. Apparently Katrina has been “busy”, but every time I walk past Glowbal I see her sipping wine on the patio.

[Note from Katrina: FUNNY, Dan. It’s more like guzzling bad coffee on Montreal-bound flights. Now if we’re talking patio-tippling, I believe there have been numerous sightings of an certain author…]

It’s been five looong months since I left Opus to finish my book, and, well, it’s been hell. If I ever questioned whether I loved my job before, I don’t anymore. Managing a hotel is not easy, but writing is ten times harder. Spending all that time with no one to talk to but an evil voice that keeps telling you you’re a fraud can play nasty tricks on your psyche. (That voice used to say the same thing when I was a hotel manager but there were more people around to drown it out).

The good news is, my third book is done and my second, Murder at Hotel Cinema, is out this month. Continuing with the hotel whodunit theme, this one is about the murder of a troubled celebrity at the opening party of a fashionable Hollywood hotel—that is not unlike Opus. When his prized employees become suspects, general manager Trevor Lambert struggles to protect them from the incriminating glare of the LAPD and the prying eyes of reporters, risking everything to expose the killer. Ooh scary! My launch takes place later this month—where else but Opus? After that I’ll be a free agent, so if you know anyone looking for someone to do very little work for lots of money, send them my way.

Truth is, I never fully severed ties with Opus. Not only do I drop in regularly to beg staff to tell me they still love me, but I’ve also done some project work, most recently having updated the Lifestyle Concierge, which will be up and running soon. On a recent visit I was thrilled to see a development proposal announcing plans for a 250-seat restaurant on Opus’s rooftop. Hot! I’m thinking of applying as a suntan lotion boy, but only if I can wear little white shorts and make enough tips to never have to write again. I was also happy to hear about the opening of Koko in Montreal, which I’m told was the party of the year—and no murders! So much for new writing material.

I used to shy away from commenting on the Vancouver hotel scene, but now that I’m a Special Guest Star with no real accountability, I thought I’d put out a few random Deep Hotel Thoughts:

1. Where are the guests going to come from?
It’s fantastic to see all the new hotels under development in Vancouver, but after the 2010 Olympics it’s going to be a fierce market. Only those who offer a superior product will thrive. Go Opus!

2. Does Vancouver need another Fairmont?
Not that Fairmont doesn’t run fantastic hotels, but with the 415-room Fairmont Pacific Rim scheduled to open in mid-2009 there will be four Fairmonts in Vancouver, plus one in Whistler and another in Victoria. Maybe too much of a good thing? I think Fairmont should give one back. We’ll take the new one.

3. Will Hotel Loden ever open?
I remember the drama when Opus was delayed by a few months and can certainly empathize with the opening team at Loden. By my calculation it’s about seventeen years behind schedule, but maybe it just feels that way. Let’s get a move on, builders, it’s lonely on the boutique front and Opus is looking forward to some friendly competition.

Well, that’s it for now. It’s been great reconnecting. Hopefully I’ll be invited back. If not, you can always visit me at www.danieledwardcraig.com. Until then, be cool, don’t forget to tip the maid, avoid hotel rooms with floral bedspreads, and remember to put on a bathrobe before you put that room service cart in the hallway—hotel room doors self-close.

Oh, and don’t forget to enter to win TV Week’s Sex in the City Weekend package, including two nights at Opus with breakfast and parking, spa treatments at Spruce, a collector Sex and the City DVD set and, la pièce de résistance, a night with me at Opus—but no sex, just cocktails and a signed copy of Murder at Hotel Cinema. Good luck!

Healthy drinking at Opus Hotel

2008-05-08T15:47:00.000-07:00

I’m heading off on vacation for a couple of weeks, so inevitably my minds turned to cocktails.

Apparently, I can enjoy my holiday cocktail-ing guilt free now, according to Brad Stanton, Opus Vancouver’s beverage manager extraordinaire. Cocktails have turned healthy? He recently introduced me to the delightfully appealing concept of cocktails as healthy elixirs. Take a peek at Brad’s video where you’ll be introduced to his talent for concocting nutritious, delicious drinks. Next time you’re nursing a cold or fighting the flu, give yourself permission to pour yourself a stiff drink. Stanton’s orders.

Brad works his cocktail magic every Monday to Friday from 4 to 7 p.m. during Happy Hour at Elixir. Make sure you stop by.

For our Montreal friends, you'll be in on the healthy cocktail action soon. Brad's busy creating the cocktail menu at Koko Restaurant + Bar, opening May 10 in Montreal.

Speaking of Koko, make sure to keep checking our Koko Facebook page, as well as the Koko website, where we'll keep you up-to-date with the latest developments as we approach our grand opening.

As for the latest happenings in Vancouver - we have some fantastic events in store for you, including a new Live Art series starting on the last Thursday of every month. Keep up with all our events on the Opus Bar web site and the Opus Facebook page and as always, you can reach me with your comments here on my blog, and soon (very soon!) on my very own Facebook page.

Koko Restaurant + Bar Opens at Opus Hotel Montreal

2008-05-02T10:14:00.001-07:00

Koko Restaurant Montreal Web Site

A dramatic silver and black backdrop and glittering chandeliers set the stage for Montreal's hottest new dining, drinking and socializing space. To set the mood, resident DJs spin with international talent to bring the latest electro-house rhythms from East and West.

In the dazzling Grand Salon, an electric green runway cuts a swath through the cloud-white room while turn-of-the-century muses painted on the ceiling contemplate the action from above. Draped in black velvet, the sumptuous Petit Salon in the building's historic section provides an intimate space for discrete encounters. Outside, the expansive terrace offers a sanctuary for basking in the afternoon sun or flirting in the moonlight.

The Importance of Being a Blogger

2008-03-31T22:25:00.000-07:00

Since my last post our Facebook page has increased to over 654 fans! I am totally amazed at how viral this medium is and how quickly it can grow. Its probably been helped a lot by the roster of cool events we promoted via FB, including our Leap Year VIP party featuring DJ Stonebridge straight from Sweden, ya. We actually took a podcast of the night which you can check out here. I’ve become hooked on these podcasts, so we organized another one for Friday night. We had K-os in the house! With a guest list of 400 and counting I was a bit nervous about capacity, but it was a huge success! If you didn’t get a chance to come down, be sure to watch the podcast on FB, we should have it posted in the next couple of days.

[BTW: Now that our brilliant social marketers have wrangled us into Facebook, we’ll be using the page as an invite list, as well as posting photos and video, so check back often to see the latest updates and leave feedback. ]

With one FB page down, I just can’t stop. Across the country, we’ve already got a Facebook page set up for the sophisticated Suco Resto-Lounge at Opus Montreal. But, what I’m really excited about is unveiling the announcement of our 9000 foot super-glam new restaurant and bar that is opening in 6 weeks. (Eek). We are seriously down to business getting ready for this huge launch and the days are passing at an alarming pace. I had a sneak peak at the website today though and am completely keyed up about its debut next week. Very sexy! Make sure to check it out…on the QT, we’ll be running a contest on it that you won’t want to miss. Oh yes, and there’ll be another Facebook profile for that too. If you’re dying to know what the name is, you’ll have to check back. It’s top secret until next week.

In case you were wondering, I still don’t have my own Facebook page. I’m working on it! It’s tough to devote a spare second to my virtual self, but I will soon. Looks like the “Get Katrina to join Facebook” group I talked about last time has their work cut out for them.

A blogger is born

2008-02-13T15:03:00.000-08:00

As a few of you may have noticed, I’ve sorely neglected updating you on the life and antics at Opus Hotels via the blog. I have a long list of fabulous excuses but will spare you most of them. Suffice it to say, life has been on fast forward here since my boss, mentor and dear friend Daniel left to become a full time ‘auteur’ and left me trying (impossibly) to fill his large and stylish shoes.

When Dan pushed the daunting list of activities across his desk that I needed to pick up after his departure, he made me promise to blog often, wittily and well. While I’d had fun subbing in for him in the past, I’d never considered the pressure of actually coming up with (relevant and interesting) things to say on a regular basis. Needless to say, I’m suffering a case of mild inadequateness that comes from attempting to follow his blogger footsteps. Hm, let’s see … he left to pursue writing as a full time career; media have gushed over his witty blog; students in hotel schools have been assigned to read his blog; and now I have to step up to perform? But here I am, on my 4th flight from Montreal in 8 weeks, resolutely starting my first solo post. It feels good.

I’ve been spending a lot of time recently at Opus Montreal planning the usual spate of marketing and communication activities. In this case, they’re directed at the spring 08 opening of what will be Montreal’s hottest, newest drinking and eating establishment. (More on that next post). As most marketers will tell you, it’s no longer enough to take out a couple of ads and hope the masses will come. Nope, it’s all about social marketing nowadays. I imagine I’m speaking to the knowledgeable and converted, but in the past year I’ve turned away from all but the most nominal advertising efforts (to the dismay of persistent sales people flogging ad space) and have become a convert to the merits of SEO, social marketing, viral campaigns and more. As head of marketing for a couple of stylish and contemporary boutique hotels, it’s my job to stay current on the latest trends. If Opus doesn’t chart this territory, who will – the Ritz?

I confess I’m still grappling to understand these various mediums though. For gawd’s sake, I must be the last person standing who hasn’t succumbed to Facebook - yet. [I’ve been informed there’s a user group for people who swore they’d never join … like me.] Fortunately I have some really smart (and patient) people around me that guide me ever so slowly through the differentiators between Facebook and Myspace, Flickr and Youtube, Ebooks and Widgets, the list goes on! Last week, we created a Facebook Business Page for the Opus Hotel and had almost 300 fans join in less than a week! Our page features an events calendar, photos from previous parties, reviews and a discussion board. (Since Valentine’s Day is around the corner, you may want to check out our rocking Valentine’s event featuring London’s own Housexy by Ministry of Sound.)

As I plan the much anticipated spring launch at Opus Montreal, I’m actually getting excited about building our Facebook business profiles and sharing up-to-date information with you through this blog. We’ll even have a weekly video showing the progress of construction. If you come across hotels or bars that demonstrate particular Facebook or blogging brilliance, I’d love to hear from you.

I’m looking forward to adding ‘blogger’ to my bio. Stay tuned for my soon-to-be-created Facebook profile. Look for it under “Groups for people who swore they’d never join”.

See you on the flipside

2007-12-21T10:18:00.000-08:00

December 28 will be my last day at Opus. And wow, what an amazing six years it’s been. For those not interested in hearing me get all sentimental, feel free to fast-forward to previous posts about misbehaving guests, mini-bar sex toys, and makeup-smearing drag queens. For the rest of you, kindly allow me a moment.

There’s one major reason why I’ve come to this place every day for six years, the same reason it’s so hard to leave: the staff. Never before have I worked with such a talented team of dedicated professionals. It’s been a privilege to work with them every day. I’ve learned so much and, most importantly, I’ve had a blast along the way.

I’m proud to be leaving Opus while it leads the boutique hotel market in service, financial performance and reputation. Opus Vancouver is once again named on of the World's Best 500 Hotels in the January 2008 issue of Travel + Leisure magazine. How has a little independent hotel achieved such success? Great location, style, and quality, yes, but more than anything it’s all about the people.

Of course, it it weren’t for our guests none of us would be here. They have been fiercely loyal, inspiring and totally cool. The media has also played a critical part in our success. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting writers from around the world, and they’ve told glowing stories about Opus in every medium. Finally, we couldn’t have come this far without the resources, support and expertise provided by hotel ownership. With Opus Montreal now open, this success is now being duplicated in one of the world’s most vibrant cities—en français et à la Montréalaise.

What becomes of me? I plan to take a few months off to write.
Murder at the Universe, my first novel in the Five-Star Mystery Series featuring hotel-manager-turned-house-detective Trevor Lambert, is now in its second printing. Murder at Hotel Cinema hits the shelves in June 2008. Now I’m on to #3. So I’ll be at home plotting my next murder over champagne and caviar. After that, who knows. I might pursue my lifelong ambition to fold towels at Linens N’ Things.

What becomes of the GM Blog? It will carry on in infamy in Katrina’s capable hands. Should you wish to keep tabs on me, I plan to start my own blog on my website. There, no longer constrained by the conventions of being a hotel manager, I’ll be able to speak even more candidly. If you thought hookers and drag queens were risqué, stay tuned.

My departure opens up opportunities for my colleagues, including Nicholas Gandossi, who becomes general manager of Opus Vancouver, Jacques Fortier, who becomes general manager of Opus Montreal, and Katrina Carroll-Foster, who is now Vice President of Sales & Marketing for Opus Hotels. It gives me great peace of mind to know that these highly capable individuals will be carrying the torch into the future.

To my colleagues, guests, clients, suppliers, media and friends in Vancouver, Montreal and around the world, thank you for the privilege and the pleasure. It's been a fantastic party, but it’s now time for me to go home and write about it.

I will miss you. All the best in 2008 and beyond. Au revoir et a bientôt.

Daniel Craig

Photo courtesy of Out Traveler

Hotels in Space

2007-09-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

Recently there’s been a lot of hype in the media about a hotel that plans to launch in 2012—in space. It’s called Galactic Suites, and reservations lines are expected to be open next year. I would be the first in line if it weren’t for the astronomical price: $4 million for a three-day stay. Now that’s an envious average rate. Since I’ll never be able to afford to be a guest, I thought I might put my name forward as a candidate for hotel manager. Problem is, considering the magnitude of the project and the track record hotels have for opening on time, I fear the launch will be delayed until I’m too old to make the journey—or, well, you know, dead.

That’s the irony of managing a hotel: you become quite comfortable surrounded by luxury and affluence, sometimes to the point where you forget you’re not actually like your guests: they’re rich and you aren’t. It’s always a rude awakening when I go out for dinner and can’t sign the bill to my promo. Hopefully Galactic Suites will offer industry discounts.

The obligatory eighteen-week training period suggests the target market is not your average weekend budget traveler, but more likely business tycoons, rock stars, and billionaire retirees. Fortunately for them, training takes place not in Siberia but at a hotel complex on a Caribbean island. I must say this raised my eyebrow. How will four months on a tropical island prepare these people for space, the most inhospitable environment a human being can endure? A tear in one’s spacesuit would lead to the most painful death imaginable: air would be sucked from lungs, blood would feel like it was boiling in veins, and internal organs would seize. I couldn’t find mention of this in the promotional material.

Why would anyone want to build a hotel in space? Well, why is any hotel built? To make money. When you consider that travelers’ most popular request is a quiet room with a view, imagine how this space hotel could deliver and the premium it could charge—like say, $4 million. Not for the faint of heart, the tour will shuttle guests around the world in a dizzying eighty minutes fifteen times a day at an altitude of 450 km. Promo material boasts that guests will “participate in international space experiments”. Am I paranoid, or does this sound ominous? Will guests conduct the experiments or be the subjects? Let’s hope experiments don’t involve making little tears in spacesuits and pushing guests out the door to see what happens.

As a hotel manager I can’t help but think about other potential challenges. If the hotel overbooks, as hotels like to do, how will relocates be handled? The zero gravity environment will make serving food and beverage challenging, not to mention making beds, cleaning rooms, showering, and, I suppose, using the bathroom. I’m thinking there won’t be a pool, spa, or windows that open. Apparently guests will use Velcro suits to crawl around the hotel by sticking themselves to walls like Spiderman. That could become a real hassle for room service attendants when they forget to bring Ketchup with a delivery. Also, in this age of environmental responsibility, how will a hotel justify rocketing just six guests at a time into space? That’s a lot of carbon credits.

I’ve often said that the hotel business isn’t rocket science, yet it appears it soon will be. The requisite merger of science and hospitality is a bit troubling. The company behind this project is based in Barcelona. As much as I love Spain, my service experiences in that country haven’t been stellar, although admittedly I wasn’t paying $4 million for accommodation. If service is bad, it’s not like you can check out and check into another hotel across the galaxy. The company’s claim that the project is “formed by various professionals in the aerospace industry” is reassuring from a scientific perspective, but where are the hotel industry professionals? Is an astronaut going to be preparing meals and turning down beds at night? They might want to consider getting Singapore involved. And before I get on board, will someone please tell me exactly how many spaceships Spain has built and piloted in the past? I think I’d feel more comfortable if Russia were involved. Whoever it is, I hope they’re better at building hotels than websites. The website for Galactic Suites is just bizarre.

SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT
While on this subject I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that my novel, Murder at the Universe, is set in a futuristic hotel in New York with a space theme. One of the main characters is a former astronaut who is appointed resident manager as a publicity stunt—with disastrous results. The point being, rocket science and hospitality demand very different skills; combining the two might result in really bad reviews on TripAdvisor.

Should I be hired to manage Galactic Suites, I imagine the job will get a little dull at times, what with only three rooms in the entire hotel. Maybe other duties will be involved, like flying the shuttle to and from that Caribbean island. Note to self: during interview don’t mention track record with valet parking at Opus. A company official describes Galactic Suites as a boutique hotel, once again reinforcing this segment’s reputation for being on the cutting edge. This got me even more excited about the possibility—until I read that the company plans to develop an “orbital hotel chain” and one of the partners is intent on colonizing Mars.

Sorry, but I don’t do chains. Or colonies for that matter. I think I’ll stick to Opus for now. I prefer to keep things down to earth.

Chain conformity and other foreboding phrases

2007-08-03T11:05:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long absence, but I have a good excuse. In case you somehow dodged the salvo of announcements issued by our media team, Opus has adopted a younger sister. She's gorgeous, speaks fluent French and, fortunately, lives far enough away from Vancouver that we won’t be too jealous. Her name is Opus Montreal.

On July 9, Trilogy Properties Corporation, owner-operators of Opus Hotel in Vancouver and operators of Adara Hotel in Whistler, purchased Hotel Godin and re-flagged it Opus Montreal. Since I promised long ago to be a blogger not a flogger, I will resist the temptation to go on and on about this beautiful property, the fantastic staff, its ideal location. I’ll leave that to the website.

I know what you’re thinking. The irony hasn’t escaped me either that, after years of bashing hotel chains, I now work for one. This “chain” is only two hotels, but already I’ve caught myself uttering such odious phrases as “economies of scale” and “chain standards”. Not that hotel chains are evil. Some of my best friends work for them, and I myself have worked for several. They serve many critical functions. For example, they house drunken conventioneers wearing badges and silly hats so boutiques don’t have to. And they fill rooms with low-rated government business so we don’t have to either.

While the term “boutique chain” may sound like an oxymoron, there are a number of successful ones out there: Morgans, Thompson, Joie de Vivre and Kimpton to name a few. It’s not chains themselves that are the problem, but chain mentality. I have an inordinate fear of reporting to some over-caffeinated vice president at corporate office in some obscure state like, say, Delaware who considers herself an authority on all things hotel, yet has never actually worked in one, nor, evidently, even stayed in one. Terms like “chain conformity” also make me shudder. This involves head office issuing a decree that all hotels in the chain offer the same service—like, for example, using the same folksy, cliché-ridden guest welcome letter crafted by the president—regardless of whether it’s a chic urban hotel or a remote resort.

Of course, many travelers are scared of boutique hotels. And who can blame them, given some of the appalling ones out there. Some travelers want the predictability of a hotel chain, where it looks and feels like home no matter where they are in the world. These are the people you see in Paris dining at Burger King. Boutique travelers want surprises, as long as they’re pleasant. You’ll see them dining in some off-the-beaten-path, authentic café in St-Germain-des-Pres.

Does the fact that Opus is now plural mean that our fierce individualism, our irreverent, bad-ass spirit will be crushed? Hell no. The truth is, we’ve never actually been bad-ass. Perhaps a bit irreverent, but at heart most of us at Opus are somewhat conservative hoteliers. We understand that, above all, travelers want comfort, convenience, and intuitive service. In Vancouver and Montreal, Opus will offer this and more: a unique and special experience that reflects the local history and culture.

I’ve been traveling to Montreal a lot lately, and anyone who travels east on business will relate to the joys of traversing time zones. You lose an entire day flying. The lateness of your flight is directly correlated with the earliness of your morning meeting. Your luggage takes forever to arrive, and it's a very tense time because everyone carries the same black suitcase and you're certain that pushy lady with the bad perm made off with yours. The taxi queue rivals the line at the passport office. If you’re lucky, you get to the hotel by midnight, which is okay because it’s only 9:00 pm back home. Except you can’t sleep. At all. Even with medication. You muddle through the next day in a jet-lagged, overmedicated, sleep-deprived haze. Finally, 6:00 pm arrives. Your day is over. Except a barrage of frantic emails from back home ensues, chaining you to your computer until their workday is over, three hours later. When you finally do adjust to local time, it’s time to fly home, where you suffer the same trauma in reverse.

While in Montreal I’ve been living in the hotel, which sounds glamorous, and sometimes it is. Hotels are magical places, staffed by super-friendly people who open doors for you, call you sir, and make your bed way better than you ever could. I love having my own little shampoo containers and jam jars. But a certain degree of privacy is sacrificed. On Tuesday my “wakeup call” was delivered by an irate guest screaming into my phone about a mishap at check-in.

Language is more formal in Montreal. In my capacity as acting general manager I’ve been introducing myself to staff like a typical westerner: “Hi! I’m Dan.” Yet when they introduce me it’s, "Je vous présente Monsieur Daniel Craig, le directeur general.” This makes me feel exceptionally important, wealthy, and, inexplicably, taller. I’m considering insisting on the same introduction in Vancouver, perhaps with “par excellence” thrown in for good measure. But I’m a little nervous about how it will be received.

Speaking of which, what is it that compels certain hotel managers to act like royalty? Over the years I’ve observed them prancing about their hotels, expecting employees to fall at their feet in their presence, seeming to relish the terror they strike in their hearts. Did we go back to the 18th century and no one told me? “That little minion didn’t curtsy when I passed—off with her head!” Shouldn’t managers want staff to expend this time and energy fussing over guests?

In my world, good hotel management boils down to one word: respect. Earned respect, not ordained respect. Treat everyone with respect—guests, staff, colleagues, owners, suppliers, that perky saleslady who’s called you five times this week, and, yes, even that high-strung VP in Delaware—and they will respect you. Humility is also essential. Guests and staff must always come first. If it has to be about you, consider a career in show business. Add hard work to the mix—as Thomas Edison said, there is no substitute for hard work—, integrity, and a bit of luck, and you have the recipe for success, whether you work for a five-star hotel, a roadside motel, a chain or an independent.

These are the values we’ll be bringing to Opus Montreal. We look forward to seeing you there. A la prochaine.

So you want to work in hotels...

2007-06-15T15:01:00.000-07:00

I get lots of messages from hospitality students and aspiring hotel workers who read this blog. In fact, an associate professor at San Francisco State University recently emailed me to say the General Manager’s Blog is required reading for his class. For some time now I’ve been promising to write a post about how to get into the hotel business. As the shortage of workers in the hotel industry begins to reach crisis proportions, the time is ripe.

One of the “horror stories” I’ve heard is a Wendy’s in Alberta had to close because they couldn’t find people to staff it. Doesn’t sound like much of a horror story to me. Starbucks maybe, but Wendy’s? All sorts of emergency task forces and working groups and action committees are being formed to address the labour shortage. Which begs the question, wouldn’t our time be better spent working than exacerbating the problem by sitting in meetings? The prospect of not having enough staff to fill positions strikes terror in the heart of hotel managers. Not only are we concerned that service levels will suffer but, more importantly, we’re terrified that we’ll have to do the work ourselves. Don’t be surprised if the next time you stay at a hotel the general manager parks your car and the human resources director fluffs your pillows.

If you’re interested in working in hotels but don’t know where to start, my advice is to get a job in a hotel. Brilliant, I know. My point is that I caution you against enrolling in four-year hotel management program before you know if the industry is right for you. Some people just aren’t very hospitable, and you’d be much better off establishing this before wasting your time and money on a diploma. If you are a good fit, then you’ll have some great practical experience to apply to your studies.

How to get a job in a hotel without experience or education? No problem. Hotels used to be really uppity about hiring the young and inexperienced, but times have changed. Many hotels, particularly big ones, are desperate for staff. This doesn’t mean that even though you have a ring in your nose and a chip on your shoulder you can walk into a high-paying executive position. It means if you are well-groomed, outgoing and have a great attitude you should be able to land an entry-level job. Even a little whippersnapper fresh out of high school can. Yes way.

The key is you have to be open to anything—delivering room service, cleaning rooms, bussing tables, fanning the GM—at any time on any day of the week. Yes, that might mean—gasp—graveyard shifts. We stopped calling them graveyards a long time ago for obvious reasons, so don’t be fooled by euphemisms like “night shifts” or “shift work”. If you want to work in guest services or management, the reality is that night shifts are a right of passage. The great news is you get to witness bizarre things that nine-to-fivers never see. Night shifts make you stronger, more knowledgeable and less afraid of the dark.

If you can’t demonstrate this kind of flexibility then you’re probably not cut out for the industry. A degree in hotel management isn’t going to change that. Save your money and consider a career in banking.

If you manage to land an entry-level job, don’t worry if it’s not your ideal position. Play your cards right and there will be opportunities to move. Work hard and be super nice to everyone, even that bossy lady in HR who made you cut your hair. Never say “It’s not my department” or “I can’t” or “Bite me.” Pay close attention to detail. And don’t steal anything, not even pillow chocolates. Colleagues must respect you, guests must love you and management must remember you. Once you’ve established yourself as an essential and noble martyr, don’t assume you’re entitled to the first opportunity that comes along. It takes time, patience and luck. Years ago, a coworker on the front desk used to apply for every sales position that came available. When she didn’t get them she would bitch to everyone about management’s appalling shortsightedness. She became the Susan Lucci of the front desk, always a contender but never quite good enough. Hm, wonder why.

I realized just how desperate hotels are for qualified people when a colleague from another hotel called me for a reference check on a former employee. The employee had issues, a lot of them, and I was quite candid about not recommending him. A few days later I got a call back. They wanted to know just how bad he really was. Apparently, the staffing situation was so dire they were willing to overlook past transgressions. Until recently, one negative word in a reference check was enough to rule out a candidate. Now hotels are more willing to compromise, which is very scary indeed. Good old Canadian hospitality is in jeopardy.

What’s the solution? One committee suggests bringing retired people back into the workforce and attracting foreign workers, disabled people, youths and aboriginals. All great ideas, but I think we need to be even more creative. What about ex-convicts? They’d be good at making beds. In fact, why wait until they get out of prison—why not hire prisoners? We’d have to keep them shackled, of course, and away from the cash drawer, but I’ve fantasized before about handcuffing wayward employees to their desks. Military personnel are also worth consideration. Their skills with weapons would come in handy in the accounting department collecting bills. We could also import workers from France now that its new rightwing government appears determined to kick immigrants out.

A more obvious solution is to increase wages in the hotel industry. I suggest we start with the general manager. Katrina suggests starting with the director of sales & marketing. Regardless, it would increase operating costs, which would result in higher room rates, but in this economy people have more money, and they should be willing to pay a premium for good service, no? A positive work environment is also important, as are good benefits, training and opportunities for advancement. But now I’m stating the obvious. I’m starting to feel like I’m in one of those task force meetings.

The big question is, if we manage to attract enough employees to staff all these hotels under development, are we going to have enough travellers to fill them? Only time will tell. In the meantime, outgoing, flexible candidates with no previous criminal convictions are welcome to send your resume to careers@opushotel.com.

Life and Times of a Bar Promoter

2007-05-24T11:03:00.000-07:00

I can’t recall if Dan mentioned this in a previous blog, but this winter we (as in ‘we, the hotel management’) took over management of Elixir restaurant and Opus Bar. To date, it’s been a lot of work. My previous restaurant experience was comprised simply of eating in them. Occasionally critiquing them. But certainly never promoting them. That all changed a couple of months ago.

Some of my new responsibilities have closely mirrored that which I already do on the hotel side, but no one ever told me about the serious business of bar promotion. You see, while one part of the job is the very civilized marketing of the fabulous French-inspired cuisine of our Chef Don Letendre the other is frankly all consuming: creating more buzz for Opus Bar. Since opening five years ago, it’s been Vancouver’s hot spot. But, it’s a competitive market, and Vancouverites can be a fickle bunch. In the last year alone Vancouver has witnessed the emergence of a half dozen hot new lounges. But Opus Bar has a cache no other venue in town can offer: it’s resides within Opus Hotel. There’s something aspirational about sipping a martini in the bar –if you can’t stay at Opus, you can certainly always drink at Opus. Anyhow. In my quest to keep the lounge buzzing every weekend, I’ve had to break out of my ‘early to bed’ habits and start living la vida loca as a bar promoter.

My first foray into club-land involved the aptly named Tall Paul. Heard of him? If you’ve danced ‘til dawn in London or Ibiza, the answer is an emphatic yes. If, like me, the last time you shook your groove thang was to Madonna’s ‘Vogue’, the chances are less likely. He is one of the world’s hottest DJs, and he comes by his name honestly: he’s over 6 foot 7. In town to play a crowd of over 3000 in Whistler, we snagged him for a hush hush VIP invite-only event at Opus. With under a week to promote the event, we sent out hundreds of e-vites and text messages (who actually prints invitations nowadays?) not knowing whether we’d have 20 or 2000 responses. I confess I was anxious at featuring a DJ who’s used to playing outdoor venues for up to 20 000 semi-lucid ravers in our 1000 square foot lounge. Wearing my ‘hotel hat’ I worried about how our hotel guests might react. Throughout the night I kept approaching the DJ stand like a school dance monitor asking (OK, shouting) ‘could you please keep the bass to a dull roar’? At 9pm doors opened and a crowd of two stampeded in. Hm. Where were the hordes of beautiful people? I started to panic. Would this be my first and last event? Should have know better…Fashionably late, crowds started to pour in by 10. Murphy’s Law, the liquor inspectors also chose to drop in that night. Us, over capacity? Never. The night was a big success: three DJ’s including the headline act, line ups down the street, a steady flow of Grey Goose and Moet, and throngs of fabulous people with smiles on their faces. One event down…many more to go. In the three weeks since, we’ve held a launch for Rickards Original White Beer and a Grey Goose themed “Joie de Vivre” party (featuring DJ Mlle. Fleur de Lys and the Burlesque Beauties), next week we're throwing a Champagne party to launch our Thursday “Bubble Lounge” concept. Next month we’ll welcome another celebrity DJ, and host another party. My beauty sleep is diminishing, but hey, liquor sales are up!

The coup de grace this summer will be our Fifth Annual Summer Street Party. Over 500 invitees join us on the street outside of Opus for the city’s largest private street party. This year’s theme is Out of Africa, complete with throbbing drum circles, electric African bands, and fire eaters. If you want to be there, you’ll have to snag a spot on our invite list.

To say this role requires versatility is a mild understatement. It demands the capacity to engage in strategic planning with high level execs to chasing down errant 20-something nose-ringed DJs. I was joking in a café with someone the other day about my new job as Bar Promoter Extraordinaire. A snappily dressed guy in front of me turned around and asked if I was the new promoter he’d heard about in Yaletown. He was the head of a chain of hot bars and wanted to talk to me if I was. While I couldn’t have looked less the part in my conservative suit and heels, I’m clearly learning to talk the lingo. I guess if things don’t work out for me in the luxury hotel industry, I can always pursue my newfound promoting career.

Back to the Scene of the Crime

2007-04-20T13:46:00.000-07:00

Just back from New York and Canada’s Media Marketplace, where my fellow Canadians and I mercilessly flogged our country’s wares in the hopes that media will write gushing stories. I stayed at the Gramercy Park Hotel for the first two nights, Ian Schrager’s latest hotel project in collaboration with artist Julian Schnabel. I’d heard mixed reviews, but I loved the place. Amazing arrival experience. Major lounge scene. Awesome neighbourhood. Service is at a higher level than Schrager’s former properties, but be prepared to pay accordingly. The décor is a mix of ultra-modern, classic and bohemian, yet somehow it works. I’ve never been a fan of tassels – in my mind they should be seen only on grandma’s curtains or Vegas showgirls – but the ones on the chairs in my room came across as playful and urbane, much like the rest of the hotel.

On Sunday New York was hit with one of the worst storms in history. As a Vancouverite I mocked the hardened New Yorkers who were making such a fuss over a few droplets of rain. Then I went outside. I’ve never experienced horizontal rain before. It was like being in a carwash. I spent the rest of the day cowering in my room.

The next day I checked into the conference hotel, the Waldorf-Astoria. I did so with trepidation. It was built in 1931 and has 1425 rooms. Large hotels are not for impatient people. I’m not big on old hotels either. I like shiny new things. But the staff at this hotel won me over. It’s difficult to provide a consistently high level of service in a big hotel, but they manage it well here. Employees seem genuinely proud. Often their lines sound scripted, but well scripted. I encountered more tassels though, on the curtains in my room. I guess New Yorkers are big on them. And the floral bedspreads have got to go. Have I disclosed before why hotels use such ghastly patterns on carpets and bedspreads? They hide stains. But I’ll leave the investigative reporting to Dateline.

I love New York so much I set my novel there, Murder at The Universe. I imploded the Hilton on Sixth Avenue and erected my hotel in its place. It made me feel like Donald Trump. The novel opens with the murder of the hotel’s owner. It soon becomes apparent that one of the executive staff members may have done it. The main character, Trevor Lambert, director of rooms, is forced to play sleuth while managing the clash of values among pampered guests, harried employees and a militant conference organizer. Some hotel executives may find the premise cathartic, what with the owner getting murdered. I should point out, however, that I conceived the idea many years ago. I would never even think of such a thing at Opus.

Things are gearing up for my book’s release in September. It’s now available for pre-order online. My publisher, Midnight Ink, contracted me to develop the concept into a 3-book series. Book 2, which I’ve been working on for a year now, is due – excuse me while I gasp for air – in two weeks. Time to get started, I guess. The working title is Murder at Hotel Cinema. Trevor moves to Los Angeles to open a swank boutique hotel in Hollywood. At the opening party a gorgeous young movie star is murdered. This time the executives and owners are off the hook, but middle management isn’t. The suspects include the hotel’s executive housekeeper, the chief engineer and the publicist. The victim is a hotel guest, but she’s a diva and a tyrant, so Opus guests have nothing to worry about as long as they behave.

The question I’m most often asked (besides what’s your phone number) is how do I find time to write and manage a hotel? The quick answer: early mornings and long days. Both jobs are a labour of love, so I don’t mind. I’ve wanted to write since I was four, when I used to carry a notebook around entitled “Poims”. Yeah, I was a weird kid, and not a very good speller. When I turned 30 I realized that if I wanted to call myself a writer at some point I would have to write something. I naively thought it would be fun and easy to write a mystery. They say write what you know, so I set it in a hotel. It’s pure fiction, but without a doubt I’ve been inspired by the colourful characters and bizarre situations I’ve encountered over the years.

I’m on “vacation” for two weeks beginning April 30. I say “vacation” because during the first week I’ll be furiously trying to shape Book 2 into something readable. The next week I’ll be on a real vacation. But my mind is always working, and while on the beach in Hawaii sipping strong fruity drinks I’ll be plotting my next murder.

Thanks to Katrina for filling in during my absence. Aloha!

Technical Challenges for the Technically Challenged

2007-04-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

It seems my recent posts have not been going out to the subscriber list - a travesty! Our web designer extraordinaire Pierre seems to have fixed the problem, so this is a quick post to see if it's working. Check out the latest, and thanks to all my loyal readers (make that reader, Dad got bored but Mom's still hanging in).

Multiple Personalities

2007-03-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

Opus has never claimed to be the clichéd “home away from home”. Unless of course your bathroom at home has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street. I like to compare Opus to “a cool friend’s apartment”, a phrase I appropriated from one of our frequent guests. It captures the hotel’s residential feel and some key design elements.

When I first heard that the hotel’s interior design team, led by the brilliant Robert Bailey (formerly of Architectura, now Stantec), was planning five guestroom décor schemes and 16 layouts, I thought they were crazy. With only 96 rooms, where was the economy of scale? They also planned to paint rooms red, blue, green and yellow. Colours? What about the official colour of every hotel room ever built: beige? They also casually mentioned that some rooms would have windows between the bathroom and bedroom – but no blinds, just a translucent sheer. I managed to win that battle by reminding them that some people travel with their grandmother. But the other design elements remained.

The hotel’s unique design features have made it fun to give tours. What I didn’t anticipate were the clever marketing opportunities the décor schemes presented. For inspiration, the design team created five fictional characters to represent the hotel’s typical guests, and then built rooms around them. Colours, fabrics and furnishings were selected to evoke the diverse lifestyles these personalities represented.

Think of these characters as a friend you’re coming to stay with. If you choose Susan, you’ll get a “stylish and sophisticated” blue room with curvy lamps and sexy fabrics. Susan’s a fashionista from Toronto who’s into the “see and be seen” scene. You’ll also find a selection of CDs and books to match her refined tastes (think opera, Dido and high fashion). After all, what do you do when you stay at a friend’s? You check out her CD collection and snoop through her bookshelf. Maybe you raid the fridge. But be forewarned, it’ll cost you at Opus. Just don’t steal anything like, say, towels or bathrobes or she might not invite you back.

If you’re feeling more uninhibited you’ll probably want to hang out with Billy. He’s a musician-filmmaker from London and his “artful & eclectic” room features lime green walls, whimsical art and faux rabbit-fur ottomans. Billy’s CD collection reflects his love of classic rock (think Kravitz and U2), whereas his books reflect his spiritual side (Ommm). Billy’s a party boy, so be prepared for a long night. Just don’t disturb Bob & Carol; they go to bed early. Bob’s a high tech exec and Carol’s journalist and they’re from San Francisco. Their “tony & traditional” yellow room leans toward comfort and conservative design. They’re not boring, they’re simply more mature and cultured. Oh, and Bob gets a lot of headaches. The CDs and books in this room reflect their fondness for jazz, classical music and higher learning.

Just down the hall you’ll find Mike, a doctor from New York who represents the convention traveler who breaks away from the crowd. His “modern and minimalist” room features cranberry-red walls, contemporary furnishings and edgy photography. Mike likes to dance to the divas and his leisure reading is decidedly non-medical, so be prepared for a blessedly superficial stay. But don’t get the wrong idea, ladies – sometimes Mike travels with his “friend” Steve. Upstairs in the penthouse suite you’ll find Dede, a method actress from Los Angeles and our resident drama queen. Her “daring & dramatic” suite features taupe walls, faux-fur fabrics and provocative art. Her taste in music is diverse but leans toward hip hop. She’s not much of a reader, but occasionally flips through books if there are lots of pictures. If you choose to hang out with Dede, be prepared to binge and splurge.

When Opus opened in 2002 we sent out a casting call for these characters and featured them in a photo shoot (see Billy above) and at our opening party. We’ve since tried to retire them, but people won’t let us. The concept of choosing a room to match your personality (or mood) captures the imagination. The media has written loads of stories about Mike and his friends. Currently, the characters are moonlighting as concierges in our Lifestyle Concierge program: you choose the personality that best suits your lifestyle and they tell you their favourite places to shop, dine and play in Vancouver.

What does the future hold for the Opus personalities? After almost five years, a few nips and tucks are in order. As we introduce new colours, fabrics and furnishings in our guestrooms we’ll update their profiles. Maybe Billy’s evolved into a Bono-like character who uses his fame for charitable causes. Maybe Susan’s career in fashion has taken off and she’s now alarmingly similar to Anna Wintour. As for Bob & Carol, rumour has it that Carol filed for divorce after catching Bob in Mike’s room. And Dede? Undoubtedly she shaved her head, did a stint in rehab and is building an orphanage in Malawi. We’re also planning to bring the characters out of the bedroom and into Opus Bar, where we’ll be featuring a martini inspired by each personality.

The possibilities are endless. One thing I know for sure, the Opus personalities have checked in for the long term, and they’re looking forward to welcoming lots more guests. I’d love to hear which personality you identify with most. And check out CBC’s recent story on the Opus personalities.

The Cream In My Coffee

2007-03-07T10:13:00.000-08:00

In our relentless pursuit of world domination, right on the heels of assuming control of Elixir and Opus Bar, last week Opus management took control of Café O. Until now, this sunny northeast corner of the building was leased to a third party. It’s earned a reputation for making a mean cup of coffee, but one of the baristas was, well, kind of mean. A tad overzealous in his love for coffee, he has chased guests out of the café for being so barbaric as to ask for – gasp – cream with their coffee. His passion was admirable, but his service tactics didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the hotel.

Vancouverites can be funny about coffee. “I've never seen so much coffee in all my life,” Bette Midler once commented during a performance in Vancouver. “The whole town is on a caffeine jag, and still nothing gets done any faster." I myself love coffee, but I’m far from a purist. Afraid to confess that I too like a bit of cream in my coffee, I used to bypass Café O and skulk over to Starbucks. Now I can simply pop upstairs without fear of reprisal.

We had less than two weeks to organize the seamless transfer of Café O into our hands, with no downtime in between. Admittedly, I was not thrilled at the prospect of taking over a coffee shop while still consumed by new responsibilities in the restaurant and lounge. I secretly feared we wouldn't be able to recruit staff in time for opening and I'd be pulling shifts behind the counter. Imagine a barista who secretly wonders what’s really so bad about instant coffee.

It’s times like this when I really appreciate the value of great staff. Over the years we’ve assembled a crack team at Opus. I respect each employee so much I could spend hours raving about them, but I’d never want to single one out over another. Amazingly, quite a few of us have been here since day one and are celebrating our fifth anniversary this year. The occasional live one gets away, but our goal is to “trade up” – to find an even better replacement. In taking over management of Elixir and Opus Bar we snagged three big fish: Leonard, an outstanding director of food & beverage; Michael, a highly experienced restaurant manager; and Annabel, a respected local publicist. Working with existing talent, these individuals will no doubt bring great things to Opus.

Okay, okay, I know I’m being really boring. But allow me a sentimental moment and I promise to return to wedding day relocates, make-up smearing drag queens and celebrity meltdowns on my next post.

On its first day of operation Thursday, Café O pulled in a staggering $83 in revenue. Why waste everyone’s time when there are much greater returns in other departments? Because every department at Opus, large and small, is a critical part of the experience.

Next time you’re in Yaletown I invite you to swing by Café O, Elixir or Opus Bar to check us out. Now that we manage every inch of this building I guarantee you’ll experience even better service, a renewed optimism among staff and a sense of warmth and freshness everywhere. And if you want cream in your coffee, it’s totally okay by us.

Deconstructing Mini-bars

2007-02-16T12:47:00.000-08:00

It’s time for our annual mini-bar program review at Opus, so it was quite timely that a little package arrived for me by courier yesterday. Upon opening it I found a “Mile High Kit” complete with lubricant, condoms and a “whisper-quiet massager”. Curious, I turned the massager on. The vibration was so powerful it almost jumped out of my hands. This handy little device appears to be designed for women feeling a bit frisky on the road. But at the size of a small lipstick container I can’t imagine it’s a satisfying substitute for the real thing. Ladies?

Will Opus offer it in our mini-bars? I’m not sure. Currently we offer an “intimacy kit” complete with lubricant and condoms (a big seller), but so far no electronic devices. As much as we like to position Opus as edgy and innovative, something about offering sex toys in the mini-bar makes me nervous. How will guests respond to finding a vibrator next to the M&Ms? And, equally importantly, will it sell?

When I stayed at the Drake Hotel in Toronto last fall I discovered an entire room service menu of sex toys and accoutrements. It made me wonder how many guests pick up the phone and place an order. I’m embarrassed enough asking for a side of mayonnaise with my fries. In New York, in the mini-bar at the 60 Thompson Hotel I found a “Shag Bag” complete with condoms, lubricant and a “natural aphrodisiac”. Oh, and Altoids - in case the aphrodisiac isn’t enough, I guess. At the Gansevoort Hotel the Mile High Kit in my room included a feather tickler. Alas, I was traveling on business and decided it wouldn't be appropriate to try it out on colleagues.

Hotels are often accused of gouging when it comes to mini-bar pricing. What travelers don’t take into account are the costs of labour, spoilage and mysteriously vanishing items. Like room service and banquets, mini-bars are more a service than a profit centre. It’s about convenience. You may ask why you’d pay $4 for a bag of Doritos when you can get one around the corner for 1/4 the price. But who wants to get dressed and go out when there’s one calling your name just a few feet away?

When I travel I always check out the mini-bar, but I rarely succumb to temptation. Well, not right away. I usually check out the prices, let out a great huff of indignation and slam the door. Later, while watching TV, I might have another peak. So many shiny, scrumptious-looking snacks! Such cute, harmless-looking minis! I don’t know about you, but my fridge at home is never stocked this well. Four types of beer? Three choices of chocolate bar? A dozen different snacks? Plus wine, champagne, vodka, gin, rum and liqueurs. It’s like the room comes with a party. How can you not resist?

Yet there are many highly complex emotions involved. It begins with denial: “I simply don’t want that can of Pringles.” Next comes anger: “Those prices are outrageous!” Then bargaining sets in. “If I eat those Pringles I won’t need dinner. It’s cheaper than room service, so I’d actually save money. Which means, in theory, I could have a beer too. And maybe even that little pack of Oreos.” We finally succumb, and a flurry of gluttony follows. Then depression sets in: “I’m fat, I hate myself, and I feel like barfing.” Finally, acceptance: “It’s done and there’s no turning back. And my, doesn’t that Kit Kat look tasty…” Perhaps not uncoincidentally, these are the same five stages of death.

Of course, it’s after those trips when you stoically refuse to touch the mini-bar that, four months later, a late charge shows up on your Visa statement. Your boss wants to know why you drank four minis of Cuervo and a bottle of Grey Goose on a business trip. Your spouse wants to know why you used the Shag Bag. You call the hotel and ask them to remove the charge. But you’re dealing with the Accounting department now. You might as well have drank the Cuervo.

Don’t blame the hotel for these late charges, blame the unscrupulous guest who checked out before you and didn’t fess up to the late-night binge. There’s a reason why hotels don’t call them “honour bars” anymore. When I checked into a room at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel last year I discovered that the mini-bar had been plundered by the previous guest. Terrified I’d be charged, I called the front desk repeatedly, insisting they send an employee up to investigate and, if necessary, dust for fingerprints and press charges. They were a bit more blasé. Eventually someone arrived to replenish the items. I’m still expecting the charges to show up on my Visa statement.

Some travelers go to a store after a binge and try to replace the items. But have you ever tried to find a 50ml bottle of Grand Marnier? Other, less scrupulous guests refill the bottles with water. As if the hotel won’t notice. Occasionally a guests thinks the entire contents of the mini-bar are free. Imagine his shock when he sees the $500 charge on his bill. Recently one of our guests was afraid to touch the fruit basket and wine we left in her room, even though it came with a welcome card from me, because she thought we'd charge her. Now that's hospitality. But who can blame guests these days when hotel rooms are starting like the local 7-Eleven?

Some hotels put a price tag on virtually everything in the room: lamps, bed, artwork, toilet etc. It’s like sleeping in an Ikea showroom. One of my pet peeves is those big bottles of water on the nightstand. They look like a thoughtful gift from the hotel until you see the $9 price tag. (At Opus we offer complimentary bottled water at turndown.) One positive trend is the offering of healthful products. But, while I'm sure these items are appreciated, most travellers will still opt for a Mars Bar and Red Bull.

The photo above is of me as I discover the great mini-bar at Hotel Le Germain in Montreal. No, I didn’t find a pair of women’s shoes inside (though not a bad idea). They’re Katrina’s. Don’t ask.

Look Who's Blogging

2007-02-05T13:07:00.000-08:00

Dan finally succumbed to the vicious flu bug which seems to have felled half my office this week, so the charge of blogging rests with me. Always a daunting task, but one must blog on. As I thought about what I might ‘blog’ today, what kept coming to mind was, well, blogs. It seems like everyone is blogging nowadays. The President of Iran recently blogged a Merry Christmas message, the Prince of Wales offered up a day in the life of HRH, and Posh (sorry, Mrs. Beckham) shared her various ramblings on L.A.: it’s officical – blogging’s gone mainstream.

Once the “domain of angst-ridden teens and doomed presidential candidates”, according to Fast Company, there are now well over 2 million bloggers tap-tap-tapping away- never during work hours of course. Blogging has further democratized the sharing of information. In a world where many feel increasingly isolated by technology, blogging has a grassroots, town hall feel to it. Sort of the Speakers Corner of the 21st century. No longer is the act of writing relegated to the rarified and qualified (read authors, journalists and academics). Every Tom, Dick and Mary Kate & Ashley can share their latest pearls of wisdom. What thankfully used to be confined to a tattered and private little black book is now published for the world to see.

Inevitably enough, with the utterance of ‘grassroots’, Corporate America’s ears perk up. What? A CHEAP marketing channel? And so now, it seems, amidst all the fervent blogger-auteurs, every industry is getting ‘hip’ to the blog movement.

The travel industry has embraced blogging with a fervour not seen since the airline industry invented “revenue management”, and made charging wildly different prices for the exact same seat a respectable and normal practice. Nowadays, thousands of intrepid travelers are chronicling their adventures with the help of sites such as travelblog.org, travelblogs.com and travelpod.com. Many are painfully dull –the literary equivalent of sifting through thousands of (someone else’s) travel photos. Some entrepreneurs have cleverly turned personal ramblings previously relegated to postcards into lucrative business ventures. Last weekend I read about 3 different globetrotters who have scored various corporate endorsements based on their writings. Bliss! This proves there IS a way to combine soul-fulfilling travel with pocket-filling cash. (Anyone out there looking to endorse me?). Forbes has even compiled their “best of” list of travel blogs.

Hoteliers have latched onto blogging as an informal (and inexpensive) channel with which to communicate with (and subtly market to) their guests. Hotels seeking to differentiate themselves from their competition, or to establish their ‘cool cred’, have all started blogging. We added the popular “GM’s Blog” to the Opus website in 2006. No marketing spin here: our blog gives guests and curiosity-seekers a peek behind the luxurious and implacable façade of the hotel. Where else can you read the real life antics of misbehaving drag queens or ice cold divas? (Of course I remain convinced the real lure of our blog is the intimate look inside the life and times of the sales and marketing department. Who wouldn’t want to read about that?!)

One of the most recent and alarming additions to the hotel blog community is Bill Marriott’s blog. At 75, and a self-confessed Luddite, Marriott has become a prolific blogger. (To give begrudging credit where it's due, he has quite a following of readers.) With Marriott blogging about the history of his hotel chain it’s clear to blog is now the norm . Clearly to stay ahead of the pack we need to come up with something new now. Maybe weekly podcasts from the Admin offices of Opus? Hm, no. That would entail maintaining a tidy office and eradicating all the tell tale open cookie and chocolate boxes littering our desks. Or perhaps vlogs (video logging) from guestrooms? I hear certain hotels in Vegas have live feeds beaming from poolside to website. Now THAT could prove interesting.

(Dan will be back next week!)

SOS From Island Paradise

2007-01-15T11:25:00.000-08:00

An important step in a well-rounded hotel manager’s career is getting overseas experience. I’m proud to say that I have overseas experience – all of one month’s worth. I alluded to this story last June, and since then a number of readers have asked for the sordid details. So here goes.

In 1996, a hotel company approached me about a job as director of sales & marketing at a luxury resort in Palau. I wasn’t keen on living on a tropical island, but they assured me it would be my base only and I’d be traveling around the world on business at least six months a year – in Australia, Europe, Asia and North America. It sounded too good to resist. I signed a two-year contract, gave up my apartment, job and happy Vancouver life, and told friends I wouldn’t be back for at several years because this was the beginning of my life as an international hotelier and playboy.

A month later I was back.

The problem had little to do with Palau itself, which is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, a chain of 200 islands in the South Pacific, with friendly people and some of the world’s best scuba diving. It had more to do with me. Things started off badly when, upon arrival, I learned that the travel budget had been axed. In the next six months I’d be going to Korea and Taiwan and nowhere else. Island fever quickly set in.

During my first week I attended a 5-day orientation session that could have been covered in an hour. In week two I wrote the resort’s marketing plan, reorganized the office, designed a series of ads and launched a marketing campaign. By week three I had nothing to do. The bulk of my job involved printing form letters, placing them in envelopes and mailing them. I took four years of university for this? To keep from going insane I learned to lick envelopes very, very slowly. Still, I could get a day’s work done in the first half-hour. I would have just called it a day and headed for the beach, but face time was important at this resort.

Staff always seemed busy, although I wasn’t sure why. The phones rarely rang, there was no email, and faxes were reserved for emergencies. When I realized life was going to be like this for two long years I decided it was an emergency. I scribbled “Get me the hell out of here!” on a piece of paper and faxed it to a colleague in Vancouver. I never heard back. During lunchtime I’d go for long walks and contemplate hurling myself into the ocean. At night I was obliged to attend the resort cocktail party and schmooze guests, which I found particularly difficult because I hated them for being happy and tanned while I was miserable and pale.

Shopping on the island was interesting. When I needed sunglasses I was forced to choose between a pair of Minnie Mouse sunglasses and some bad-ass Terminator sunglasses. I opted for the latter, which did little to boost my popularity on the island. The GM let me drive the resort’s beat-up old car, which was nice, except, being Japanese-made, its steering wheel was on the right side. One day I lost my bearings – maybe it was the sunglasses – and swerved onto the shoulder of the road, almost taking out a local. I came so close I heard his sharp intake of breath. This didn’t help my popularity either.

It wasn’t all bad. One day the GM took me to Jellyfish Lake, hidden in a crater at the centre of one of the islands. The lake is full of enormous jellyfish that, through some ecological phenomenon, have lost their sting. You may remember it from Survivor: Palau, when it was featured as a prize in a reward challenge. We swam through schools of them, tossing them around like balls of Jell-o. Maybe it wasn’t so bad here after all, I thought. The next day I was evicted from my gorgeous room at the resort and relocated to a dark, prison-like apartment in Koror. That’s when I began to plan my escape.

Word got around that I was lonely. One night there was a knock on my door and a Palauan woman about twice my size stood grinning at me, smelling strong of perfume. I thanked her and sent her away. I was lonely, but not that lonely. Another night the resort’s ex-pats invited me to a party. I arrived hours late and angry, having driven around the island several times, lost in the total darkness among the winding roads. The party was in a garage. I was sipping beer, trying to look happy, when an enormous coconut crab (see above) fell from the rafters and landed on me. Have you seen those things? They’re the largest terrestrial anthropods on earth and look like those creatures in Alien. Everyone laughed. I almost fainted.

Within a few weeks I decided I had made a terrible mistake. I was a city guy, not an island guy. I went to see a travel agent. That afternoon, by coincidence, resort staff surprised me with a welcome reception. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I had just booked a flight home. The next day I broke the news to the GM. He didn’t believe me, and who could blame him. What kind of fool would fly halfway around the world to accept a job in paradise, only to go home after a month? Me, apparently.

As far as I’m concerned, those contestants on Survivor: Palau got off easy. At least I now know that island paradise is not for me, unless I’m on vacation. Chalk it up to experience – overseas experience.

Together at last

2006-12-29T16:08:00.000-08:00

It’s December 29 and I’m feeling sorry for myself because for weeks now, while friends and colleagues in the industry have been stumbling from one holiday party to another in a boozy haze, I’ve never been busier. While they've been Christmas shopping during work hours, I've been shopping for a director of food & beverage. And while they've been inventing all sorts of excuses for coming in late and leaving early, I’ve been coming in early and leaving late. You get the idea. I’m bitter.

I was whining about this to my Mom over dinner last night, likely boring her to tears, and she basically told me to get over myself. Did I think being a general manager would be a walk in the park? I really hate it when she’s right. Problem is, I’ve never been fully convinced I want to be a hotel manager. Right now folding sweaters at the Gap or greeting at Walmart is sounding pretty appealing. I’ve always been in the hotel industry a bit grudgingly, convinced that another career is out there for me, one with more pay, less hours and frequent trips to Tahiti. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. LOVE IT. But would I want to be a general manager anywhere but Opus? Probably not.

Normally things settle down for me this time of year and I'm one of those irritating people drifting around in a boozy haze. But recently my job got a lot bigger. I’ve assumed responsibility for Elixir and Opus Bar. When Opus opened four years ago the hotel and the restaurant/lounge were set up as separate companies, and I joined the hotel side. The ownership wanted to avoid the dreaded curse of hotel restaurants: bad food, inflated prices and poor financial performance that sucks the life out of the more profitable rooms division. So Elixir was given its own identity, its own entrance and a brasserie concept that contrasted with the hotel's contemporary style. Things have worked out well for the most part, and Elixir and Opus Bar are popular with locals and guests alike. But there have been internal challenges and problems with consistency. For me it's been frustrating not to have control over food and beverage, but at the same time it’s allowed me to focus all my attention on the hotel. All that will change now that we’re one big family.

When Elixir staff first heard I was getting involved they were nervous. I guess someone told them about my days as a waiter in Toronto when I was in my early twenties. I had two waiter jobs, one in a fine-dining restaurant and the other in a nightclub on ladies’ nights. My specialty was spilling drinks, usually on people, like the cold glass of milk I dumped down an elderly woman’s back and all over her fur coat. She screamed so loud everyone ran over to look. I was so embarrassed and apologetic that she felt sorry for me and gave me an enormous tip. At the nightclub I didn’t fare as well with spills. The ladies wanted my scrawny butt out of the way so they could see the big, buff strippers. Now that Elixir staff know I won’t be waiting on tables, they’re very supportive of the change.

Present position excluded, serving tables is the most stressful job I’ve ever had. Anyone who scrimps on the tip after receiving good service should be forced to spend a day as a server. I still have a recurring nightmare in which I have a section full of hungry, angry guests and the kitchen is totally backed up. It’s like those university dreams where you show up for an exam and realize you never attended class. (Other people have those dreams too, right? It's not just me?)

Once I get a director of food and beverage in place the workload should ease up. I’m really excited about working with our management team to provide a seamlessly brilliant experience in Elixir, Opus Bar and Opus Hotel in 2007. Stay tuned, and swing by.

One last note. Condé Nast Traveler’s 2007 Gold List is out and once again Opus has been recognized as one of the top hotels in the world. What’s also cool is the write-up tells readers to “check out the general manager’s irreverent blog”. Thanks for the plug, CNT.

Wishing all of you a very happy new year! Hope to see you at Opus soon.

Holiday Havoc

2006-12-12T14:19:00.000-08:00

Dan’s swamped this week (with his never-ending, glamourous holiday parties) and asked if I could write the blog. Mais oui, I said, I love writing the Director of Sales and Marketing’s blog. I’ve got Christmas tunes streaming through my computer, an eggnog latte by my side, and am dreaming of my three week holiday to Thailand - yippee! Oh right, I’m here to write. Focus.

‘Twas two weeks before Christmas, and holiday fever has hit the hotel. Stylish cranberry wreaths have been hung with care, in hopes that more revelers soon will stay/eat/drink here. Our guests are nestled in their Frette linen beds, with visions of (guess this one depends, but I’ll wager…) Beemers and Veuve dancing in their heads. Client lunches have been scheduled in Outlook calendars and post-work cocktails planned with colleagues after. The sales staff and I had just settled down to a flurry of card writing and gift box wrapping, when arose such a clatter I jumped up from my computer to see what was the matter. [Run on sentence, but this rhyming stuff is tough.] The Grey Goose minis and long-stemmed martini glasses were still lined up awaiting distribution to the masses. (Thank god those weren’t broken). But what to my horrified eyes did appear were cookie shards scattered both far and near. (Guess I’ll be asking the kitchen to bake a few dozen more “for our clients”. Ahem, not like they’re being eaten by staff). I think this is a far as I can take my poem. Anyone still reading?

The unofficial kickoff of the holiday season is the annual Tourism Vancouver Christmas lunch. Hordes of enthusiastic hospitality types flowed into the elegant Hotel Vancouver last Thursday ready to eat, drink, drink some more and be very, very merry. Chestnuts roasted, carolers caroled, turkeys basted (how DO they turn out 100 plus turkeys at once), and wine flowed. After some ‘networking’ (i.e. swapping industry gossip) came the requisite team photo with Santa and Mrs. Claus. Yet again this year, I landed on his knee - well hovered uncomfortably above as the pictures will attest (note the tight smile). There’s just something faintly lurid about sitting in Santa’s lap in one’s mid-thirties while sporting stilettos and a skirt. Finally, several hundred famished and red-faced party-goers settled down to the tunes of Dal Richards, and awaited their table’s turkey (the Tourism Nanaimo bunch next to us were particularly lively). Lunch culminated in enormous fanfare with the annual ‘Parade of Hats’. A not-so-dignified procession of hapless (usually new) employees cha-cha-cha’d their way around the ballroom in front of respected peers in gaudy chef hats featuring blinking Christmas lights, steaming dry ice, festooned with glittering ornaments and garlands, felt antlers, toy trains, company logos - literally, whatever. If you’re wondering which of us donned the hat, you should know that hell-would-freeze-over before any Opus employee would lap a room wearing a Leaning-Tower of Pisa inspired Christmas chapeau. Simply. Not. Stylish. At least not until Donatella agrees to design one.

Opus really shines in its own special way during the holiday season. Lights are twinkling throughout Elixir; purple and pink synthetic trees adorn Opus Bar; and silver disco-themed Christmas balls hang from the ceiling. Guests arrive laden with parcels from their shopping excursion or linger over a late afternoon glass of champagne in the lounge. There’s a general feeling of anticipation (or is that panic?) in the air. Christmas is only 2 weeks away.

From everyone at Opus to all our loyal readers, we wish you Happy Holidays. Stay tuned for the first story of 2007 early in January.

Guests Behaving Badly

2006-11-24T10:48:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was a challenging one at Opus. You would have thought it was a full moon. Maybe the incessant rain and contaminated water seeped into our brains. Whatever the reason, by Sunday three of our guests had been blacklisted. They won’t be welcome back.

Of course, I never divulge the identity of guests, but I will say that one decided to hold a very loud party in his suite, and was indignant when we shut it down. He was even more belligerent the next day when we informed him he’d have to pay for the room charges of his neighbour, whose room and tax were refunded due to the disturbance. We didn’t press the issue when things got ugly, but we also won’t be registering him again.

Guests who arrive without a reservation are often suspect. Of course, lots of perfectly decent people rent hotel rooms spontaneously. But for some reason same-day reservations are the most likely to cause trouble. "Cash-only" guests are a red flag too, which is why some hotels won’t even register them.

Another challenging guest this weekend was a drag queen. I passed him in the lobby on Friday night and he looked fabulous – tall, thin and glamorous, with big blonde hair and lots of makeup. It was cool having a drag queen in residence, I thought at the time; added some colour to Opus. Unfortunately, it added a bit too much colour. I guess he didn’t like the colour of his room, because he repainted it – with his makeup. It was everywhere: carpet, walls, doors and bedding, resulting in a large cleaning bill. Bad drag queen, bad.

The third guest had a steady stream of, um, “rentals” (an industry term) to his room whom he claimed were his “nieces”. One got off on the wrong floor late in the night and knocked on another guest’s room to offer her services. The couple politely declined, and promptly called the front desk. That’s all I’ll say on this issue.

Oh, and another guest punched a hole in the wall of his room. But he fessed up (people usually neglect to mention these things at checkout, like we’re not going to notice). And he was gracious and apologetic, offering to pay for damages. So we’ll let him come back. We all have our bad days.

When I was duty manager at the Pan Pacific we used the term "UD", for Undesirable, to identify a visitor who might cause trouble. One afternoon a scruffy-looking guy in a lumberjack’s coat came to the front desk and asked me for a room. Deciding he was a UD, I politely informed him that the hotel was sold out. I guess he didn’t believe me, because he went across the street and called Reservations, who said, "Sure, come on over! We have lots of rooms". He did, and marched right up to me, yelling and swearing. Turns out he was an executive with Truck Loggers Association, one of the hotel’s top clients. Oops. Suddenly, a room was available.

At Opus we welcome people from all walks of life, and we don’t judge their conduct, as long as they respect their environment and don’t do anything illegal or harmful. Fortunately, for every misbehaving guest there are hundreds of wonderful guests. Because the safety and security of guests, employees and property is paramount, sometimes we're forced to be less understanding and compassionate that we’d like. Sensitivity and tact are essential. I can picture Dawn, our very-pregnant Guest Services Manager, sweetly but firmly informing the guest who had the party in his suite that he won’t be welcome back. Ever. I’m sure she handled it brilliantly.

Sometimes I miss my days in operations. But only sometimes.

Lysol comes to the rescue

2006-11-09T11:03:00.000-08:00

In the past few months I’ve received lots of great stories from readers about their hotel experiences: the good, the bad, the ugly and the hilarious. I encourage you to send me yours by clicking any of the “comments” link below. All comments are monitored, so please keep them clean and brief. Oh, and try to leave the boring parts out.

Now on to my rant. Recently there’s been a barrage of stories in the media regarding a study that found travelers leave a lot more than toothbrushes and socks behind at hotels. They leave germs too. Nasty germs with scary names like rhinovirus that lurk on TV remotes, light switches and hotel pens. In the ensuing panic, many overlooked the fact that the study was conducted before rooms were cleaned, not after. Even more suspect, it was sponsored by Lysol. No bias there.

If you’re going to freak out over germs you should probably be more concerned about the journey to your hotel. Think airplanes, airport bathrooms and taxi cabs. Unlike hotel rooms, which are occupied by one or two people and cleaned from top to bottom prior to your arrival, these places can be virtually festering with rhino-type viruses and God knows what else. Now that’s scary.

Another thing that hotels are battling these days is “amenity creep”. Now before you run off in a panic to take a scalding shower and spray Lysol all over your body, I should explain that it’s not some incurable flesh-eating disease brought on by secretly recycled hotel bath amenities. It refers to the hotel practice of adding new amenities to keep up with changes in technology, lifestyle and guest preferences. These litte extras can range from an eye soother to a spa. When one hotel adds one thing it forces competitors to follow suit, which can lead to the never-ending race known as amenity creep.

Guests appreciate these little extras – as long as they don’t have to pay for them. But they also increase hotel operating costs, and rooms can become so cluttered guests think they’ve walked into an occupied room. There’s something to say for the stark minimalism of the St Paul in Montreal or the Hotel on Rivington in New York, where my room didn't even have a clock radio.

No one has been hit harder by amenity creep than the housekeeping department, whose job has become increasingly complex and physically demanding. When Westin introduced Heavenly Beds, which consist of “a custom-designed pillow-top mattress set with 900 individual coils, 3 sheets, a down blanket - 3 versions for 3 different climates, comforter, crisp white duvet, and 5 goosedown/feather pillows”, I’m sure room attendants were totally unimpressed. They probably long for the days of a simple foam pad, two flat pillows and a floral bedspread. But guests don't, so things aren't likely to get easier.

Opus is not immune to this insidious disease. In fact, we might be a carrier. When we opened in 2002 we stocked our rooms with cordless phones, safes, irons, bathrobes, mini-bars, coffee stations and more, and we've been adding things since. Recently, we introduced CDs and bedside books, hand-selected to complement our five lifestyle-inspired décor schemes. Housekeeping staff must match the coloured dot on the CD or book with the colour of the room or they're fired (kidding). All the more reason not to forget to leave a tip for the room attendant. When I travel I even tidy up my room before the maid arrives. But that’s because I don’t want her to think I’m a slob.

“Technology creep” (I just made this term up; feel free to borrow it, it’s going to be big) is another challenge for guests and staff. When I worked at the Metropolitan Hotel the penthouse suite had a state-of-the-art entertainment system, but no one knew how to work it except for the owner, who lived in Toronto. Last Saturday I spent a night at Opus and experienced technology rage (another new term, also bound to be big). Upon arrival, everything in my room was perfect: bed turned down, curtains shut, stereo playing the first song on the hotel's Magnum Opus CD. Then the song repeated itself. Again. And again. I spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to turn the damned repeat function off, almost hurling it out the window, then finally gave up and switched it off.

Sometimes, silence and simplicity are best.

Of Budgets and other sundry thoughts

2006-10-27T12:16:00.000-07:00

As Dan mentioned in his last entry, it’s budget time here at Opus. And that means lots and lots of spreadsheets. So many in fact, Dan’s locked the door to his office (I assume he’s working in there), has sent out for lunch, and has entrusted the latest blog to me. I had thought writing about our budget process but having sat in a budget meeting until 7.30pm last night, the idea of actually trying to turn that exercise into an entertaining read is too painful to contemplate. And, likely it would be the reading equivalent of watching paint dry for you.

A new hotel is opening in town next year, and I’m of mixed emotions about its arrival. On the one hand, I welcome a competitor. It keeps us sharp, ensures Opus never rests on the laurels of its reputation. We’ve been the only newcomer to the hotel scene for a few years now with no one to challenge us. A new hotel forces us to reevaluate the services we offer, the products we provide, our message to guests, our brand in the market - everything. We welcomed words like ‘new’ and ‘hot’ when we opened, but we’ve matured. Our focus now is on keeping Opus fresh and unique and always providing seamless, warm, friendly service. Relevance, substance AND style.

But frankly, I confess I’m a bit nervous too. Will our guests love us enough to stay? Or will they be lured away by a flashy new hotel. I’m betting the relationships we’ve built will keep them at Opus, but know there aren’t any guarantees. Frankly, it’s a lot like the fickle dating scene (but that’s for a different blog). Will they be seduced by some pretty young ingénue who beckons coyly, or will they demonstrate their steadfast loyalty to sophisticated and stylish Opus?

Recognizing that ‘all’s fair in love and hotel competition’ I confess, nonetheless, that I am tiring of the ‘secret shopper’ phone calls from this new hotel on the block, trying to get us to divulge rates and other industry information. Hey, we all want to cooperate in this industry, but you’re our competitor. And that means, stop calling me for information! Hm. This could soon turn into a rant, I’ll move on now.

It’s Friday, and that means, oh right, more budgets. Today, the fun was slated to start at 2pm, but we decided that we should start a little earlier – like 10am. That should give us a solid 7 hours to wrap things up before the weekend. Getting the office environment right is an integral part of the budget process. We sometimes get a bit giddy during budget season (not so much because of the entertainment value of excel sheets), but insufficient oxygen levels. That means turning the room temperature way down low – Arctic-style. Why? Because 4 bodies X 7 hours + a closed office = dangerously high emission levels of CO2. Enough to lull one to sleep. (Who me? Never).To ensure (artificially induced) alertness, we keep cold and thus clear headed. It also means copious caffeine and sugar. I’ve got my triple shot Americano at the ready (luke-cool, of course, since the office is so damn cold), and a plate of chocolate dipped Halloween themed cookies for all to enjoy. I noticed Dan’s also bought food today: more muffins, cakes, and cookies. This isn’t a good sign. Clearly he’s anticipating a long meeting from the volume of baked goods available. (Please see my blog on hotels and food for further reading on the dietary dangers of this business).

With no windows or fresh air to distract us, a week’s supply of white flour, sugar and caffeine to nourish us, the comforting blue glow of the computer screen to soothe us, we’re ready to proceed. Not surprisingly, today we’re trying to ‘find’ more revenue, and ‘shave’ more expenses. I’d rather stick to blogging.

I'm baaaaack! Did you miss me?

2006-10-11T13:49:00.000-07:00

First up, thanks to Katrina for filling in for me during my vacation. When I read her posts and saw how brilliant they were, I thought, “That brazen little upstart is so fired.” But I’ve since learned to accept being upstaged, and I quite like the idea of a backup for times of low inspiration or excessive workload.

Like now. It’s budget time at Opus, and the reality of having been away for a good part of September is sinking in. This is the busiest time of year for hotel managers; we’re trying to focus on planning for the upcoming year at a time when our hotels are still full of guests who need our attention. Which means lots of extra hours.

Not that I’m complaining. Planning for the upcoming year is always exciting, and I’ve got some great ideas after my recent travels. Right now I’m struggling to find a catchphrase for Opus Hotel’s 2007 plan. In previous years we rolled out our “best boutique experience” vision and a “focus on innovation” strategy, but this year, our fifth in operation, calls for something that reflects how established we now are as a business. I thought of “resting on our laurels” or “less work, more pay” but I doubt it’ll fly with the owners. I’m thinking the best strategy is to stabilize: to secure our guests’ loyalty, our staff’s eternal dedication and our positioning as Vancouver’s #1 boutique hotel.

Phew, glad that’s over. Now I’ll share a few observations from recent trips to Seattle, Paris, Rome, London, Montreal and Toronto, where I checked out about 30 hotels.

· Parisians are a lot nicer than they used to be. Maybe it’s because my French is marginally less deplorable than on previous visits. Or maybe they’ve realized that France is the most visited country in the world, and if people stop coming they will have no one left to condescend to. Whatever the case, merci bien. It made my trip all the more pleasurable.

· At the lounge in Hotel Le Meurice (where, you may recall, I wanted to stay but refused to pay $1300 per night) a simple vodka tonic is 24 Euros, or CDN $35. Thank God I was being hosted. It’s a beautiful hotel with impeccable service, but I’m glad I didn’t stay there. It’s too fussy and old-world for my tastes, and the drinks are far too expensive.

· More to my liking in Paris were Murano, Hotel Costes and the new Kube. Located in a rather dodgy part of the 18th arrondissement, Kube is home to Ice Cube (how cute), a bar made of 22 tons of ice. For 38 Euros (CDN $55) you get ½ hour to sample unlimited Grey Goose vodka blends out of hollowed-out ice cubes. The temperature is kept at a balmy -5, but staff very thoughtfully supply coats and gloves.

· In London, the lobby of the Sanderson Hotel, designed by Philippe Starck and part of Morgan’s Hotel Group, still looks modern and fresh. The bar is hugely popular, and the courtyard is stunning, but we couldn’t help but notice all the working girls preying on international playboys.

· Back in Canada, I stayed at the Drake in Toronto, which lived up its hype. With only 19 rooms it’s more a cluster of bars and restaurants than a hotel, but rooms are well thought-out and inexpensive, and service is great, provided you don’t mind staying on the fringes of Queen West.

· In Montreal we encountered an impressive doorman when we dropped by Hotel Le St. James. Miguel greeted us warmly, sat us down and gave us an overview of the hotel that would put your average sales director to shame, then introduced us around to other staff. Other hotels we liked include Le Germain, the Nelligan, Place d’Armes, Le Godin and the Gault.

· I’ve admired W Hotels for years, but I fear they’re losing their edge. It’s the world’s fastest growing luxury hotel brand, but the look hasn’t evolved much. Service remains inconsistent (some staff interpret the “whatever” philosophy much differently than management intended) and it’s over-branded; you can read only so many cute plays on “W” words before it becomes annoying. Problem is, W appeals to a fashionable crowd whose ever-changing tastes are tough to keep up with, particularly for a hotel chain. Let’s hope they address these issues as they plan for 2007.

· The new Hotel 1000 in Seattle looks awesome.

I could go on and on and on about my travels (as my friends and colleagues will attest), but I’ll leave it at that for now. It’s time to get back to my budget.

Waist not, want not.

2006-09-15T12:24:00.000-07:00

Working in Opus Hotel's marketing and sales department is fraught with dietary dangers. Keeping a trim figure falls a distant second to the onerous demands of our job. In a town filled with healthy Lululemon-wearing, smoked tofu eating denizens, we’re caught in a truffle-oil trap. How to look good and stay fit, while employed at a luxury hotel. It’s not easy. Each week, in the name of duty, we maneuver through a minefield of high calorie, low nutritional value, totally irresistible treats.

Offering unique and interesting “welcome amenities” is a surefire way to impress guests. As such, Opus is unswerving in its dedicated pursuit for the perfect cupcake to wish our guest ‘happy birthday’; the perfect chocolate chip cookie to say ‘welcome back’; or the perfect almond cake, ‘just because’. We would never EVER think of serving to our guests that which had not been well-sampled first. And, who better to assess the quality of a fine baked good than members of the Opus sales department who happily hone their skill on Timbits most Friday mornings. We never tire of this part of our job. Each time the kitchen brings plates of freshly baked amenities for our sampling pleasure, a mad Pamplona-style rush ensues towards the plates. Wiping the last crumb from our smiling faces we remind ourselves this caloric sacrifice is for our guests and our quest for excellence, and so we persevere in our sampling.

Able to rest easy that our sampling expertise has lent itself to the very best in guest “welcome amenities”, we are each able to re-focus our efforts towards the critical task of relationship building with key clients. Integral to forging these valuable relationships is “client entertainment”. Working for a hotel synonymous with luxury and sophistication, the sales department has a reputation to live up to. Clients are encouraged to indulge in whatever decadent item suits their fancy. We ask them to cast aside their usual reserved salad-eating ways to do enjoy an extra piece of hot baguette, a plate of crispy French fries, a serving of molten chocolate cake. And we’re right alongside them, keeping them company (day in, day out). After all, this is in the name of business development.

Acclaimed for his innovative cuisine, Elixir’s executive chef Don Letendre creates masterful new menus every quarter highlighting the seasonal best of British Columbia. No self-respecting chef would consider offering a new menu to discerning diners without first testing every item. Thus, armed with empty stomachs and singularly focused on the task ahead, the (you guessed it) sales department is called up for duty. Three hours are blocked in the Outlook schedules. Phones are forwarded. Menu tasting is serious business, and taking up serious time. Usually limited to one plate per 4 tasters, initially food quantities seem sparse- it’s no easy feat divvying up a 3 ounce tomato tarte tartin with avocado sorbet into 4 pieces to sample. Sampling momentum quickly picks up however, and a blur of new breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, petits plats AND dessert item ensues. Only the most experienced can survive this gourmet marathon, and return to their desks only to answer the next call of dietary duty: the staff birthday cake.

Running one of the world’s best hotels also means ensuring loyal and happy staff by acknowledging accomplishments and celebrating landmarks. This, of course, involves food. Employees are regularly feted on their birthdays with sumptuous cakes. Ever team players, the sales department is always out in force- belting out a vigorous ‘Happy Birthday’ before dispatching a piece of birthday cake. All in the name of team spirit.

My trainer recently asked me to keep a food log as part of the self-imposed torture that masquerades as my morning workouts. I assured him this would prove an exercise in futility and could already predict the disapproving looks that would be forthcoming. I acceded to his request however and dutifully recorded every morsel consumed over 7 days. As expected, he sternly admonished my consumption of white flour, white sugar, butter, and duck confit. I was sanguine however, in my knowledge that each buttery crumb was consumed in the name of duty.

[Dan’s back from his European Vacation next week. You can expect his next blog soon…Thanks for reading mine. It’s been fun!]

Sales trips: the sublime and the ridiculous

2006-09-05T16:20:00.000-07:00

With some trepidation, Dan asked me to write the GM’s blog while on vacation. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to moonlight as a blogger while he’s traipsing about Paris, so it’s official: this is now the Director of Marketing and Sales' blog. Of course, having blithely accepted the challenge of writing a witty, yet informative blog (Dan's instructions), I’m now sitting staring at a flashing black cursor wondering what to write about. I confess, I did consider using this space to flatter Dan shamelessly in an obvious attempt to build my own currency before looming employee evaluations. But that seemed a tad self- serving. Instead, with a busy few months business travel ahead for my department, I thought I’d share a few random thoughts on the glamourous trips of a sales and marketing director.

Working for a luxury boutique hotel has distinct perks. Not least of these is staying in other fabulous luxury hotels when traveling on business. (Note the distinction- when I travel for pleasure the quality of the hotels I frequent drops - a lot). My recent trips to visit clients in New York have afforded me stays at the fashionable Hotel Gansevoort, 60 Thompson, and Rivington, as well as various Ian Shrager classics. Next time I’m in town, I’m dying to try out the new “anti-hip” Gramercy Park Hotel opened to fanfare by the eponymous Shrager. Throw in a couple of fabulous dinners at the latest, greatest eateries (Buddha Bar, anyone?) and it’s enough to make me (almost) forget why I'm in New York. Almost.

Reality starts gnawing at my New York fantasy as I cram my largest pleather bag each morning with the usual accoutrements we use to flog our product. Known as swag in industry terms, these include branded candles, CD’s, breath sprays, hats, T-shirts and more. Not to be forgotten are the glossy brochures, expensive sales kits, pricing sheets, catering menus and more. Oh, and of course the trays of cookies, muffins and coffees that I bring to appease each client. I’m getting a back ache just thinking of it. I generally split the seams of one bag per trip - but I refuse to buy one of those wheelie bags and drag it, and my stylish Opus-swag, through Manhattan. The upside to losing a bag is it presents an opportunity to buy a new one every few months. I am one of the street bag vendors’ best clients, and always have this season’s latest Prad-o or Gucc-y when I return to Vancouver. (If you’ve been to New York, you know what I’m talking about).

A requisite of visiting clients in New York is putting one’s best foot forward- literally. On my last trip, this translated into negotiating subway stairs and miles of pavement in the scorching heat with the aforementioned pleather bag crushing down on me and cookie platters precariously balanced, in 4 inch gold trimmed Kenneth Cole shoes. Carrie Bradshaw I am not, however. Two days and several blisters later, I found myself on frantic search for a Payless, any Payless, in order to buy $2 plastic flip flops. To the assortment of swag and brochures in the bag were added my offending heels- quickly donned before each meeting.

Every appointment is different with the ultimate goal, of course, being to land the next biggest client for Opus. Downtown, I’ve run the post 9-11 gauntlet of security at the NYSE (yet another pair of nail clippers lost to zealous guards). Uptown, I’ve swanned through the hallway of a fashionable make up emporium waiting to be ushered to the boardroom, only to find my meeting in the decidedly un-fashionable mail room. Sometimes people are delighted to see me. Often, I’m totally ignored. I’ve found myself shilling my wares in a travel agent lunch room next to an overflowing garbage can and a colony of fruit flies. Not an atmosphere conducive to selling luxury, but I’m a pro.

On return from each trip comes the task of recording and retrieving expenses. Accounting for hotel and restaurant expenses is usually simple - compiling the assorted scraps of table napkins with tips scratched onto them, and crumpled taxi receipts, not so easy. But that’s what a controller is for. Well that, and auditing each item. For some reason finance types never seem to understand the obvious business rationale behind an $18 martini. Don’t they appreciate this is the arduous price of relationship building?

All in all these trips are a definite bonus. Face time with clients is invaluable and the chance to see what other hotels and restaurants are doing in fashion-driven cities like New York so useful. Just don’t let anyone tell you it’s a holiday.

Appropriation, the Highest form of Flattery

2006-08-25T16:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I miss the days when I was in sales. I got to travel all over the continent at the company’s expense and – my favourite pastime – check out other luxury hotels. This job keeps me chained to Opus most of the year. But this fall will be a heavy travel month for me.

On Sunday I’m going to Seattle for Opus Hotel’s annual sales & marketing retreat – or, as they say in ultra-positive business speak, “advance”. We’re staying at The W, where we’ll conduct sessions on 2007 marketing, sales and brand evolution. We’ll also check out the latest & greatest in Seattle hotels and see if anyone is doing anything new and interesting. If so, we plan to steal their ideas and try to pass them off as our own, which will make our sales & marketing plan all the more impressive. We won’t feel bad, because Seattle is stealing a lot of Vancouver’s Alaska cruise business. I guess they need it, with Hotel 1000 recently opened and a Four Seasons and Pan Pacific on the way.

After Seattle, in case you missed all my gloating in previous posts, comes my vacation in Europe. Unfortunately, my expensive tastes will have to take a holiday with me, since I’m not prepared to pay 500 Euros for a good hotel. So, I’ll be slumming it in cheap, likely roach-infested B&Bs, hoping no one recognizes me. The day I get back Opus is holding our 4th anniversary staff party at the Rowing Club. I’ll probably be so jetlagged staff will have to prop me up in a corner and slap me awake every so often. But they’re used to that from meetings.

Next I’m off to Toronto for a Tourism Vancouver media event. I’ll be staying at The Drake, which gets lots of great buzz, so I’m hoping to appropriate ideas from them too. From Toronto I fly to Montreal for our annual executive retreat – um, I mean advance. We’re there to plan for 2007 and to check out what’s new and hot in hotels, lounges and restaurants. Each night we’ll be staying at a different hot boutique hotel – Le Germain, the St Paul and Godin in case you were thinking of sending us an amenity.

Last year we held our executive advance in New York. In 72 hours we checked out 50 hotels, restaurants and lounges. We had strict, oppressive rules like only one drink per venue to ensure we were always on the move. We stayed in a different hotel each night – 60 Thompson, Hotel Gansevoort and Hotel on Rivington – all super cool in their own way. Norah, our New York publicist, got us on the list at some of the city’s most popular clubs like Marquee, Bed and Double Seven. Being ushered past the waiting masses through the velvet ropes made us feel extremely important – until the doorman at Bungalow 8 told us he didn’t care if we were on the list, we weren’t getting in, now scram. We had to skulk past all the people we had just smugly marched by.

In New York we had hoped to steal lots of great ideas, but we learned more about what not to do. At one hotel a front desk agent and bellman had a fight in front of us over showing a room. The bellman finally agreed, and was sullen, disinterested and chewing gum for the whole tour. We suddenly understood how Russell Crowe felt at the Mercer.

If these retreats/advances sound awesome, they are. We get out of town, brainstorm, analyze, commend and critique, all in an urban, inspirational environment. The investment always pays off, and it’s been a key part of Opus Hotel’s success. When I say we steal ideas from other hotels, I say it partly in jest. As an independent we try to keep on the cutting edge of everything, so we don’t often encounter ideas we haven’t already thought of. It’s more common for other hotels to steal ideas from us. But as they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery.

In my absence Katrina, our DOSM, has promised to write a post or two. Whenever I ask her what she plans to write she breaks into a wicked cackle. Remember, Katrina, it's performance review time in November.

I’m sure you’ll enjoy hearing from Katrina. Have a great few weeks.

The Tyranny of the Mistreated Traveller

2006-08-11T10:47:00.000-07:00

I’m still smarting from a review posted on a travel website recently by an unhappy guest. It’s hard not to take these comments personally. I’m passionate about the hotel, as are my staff, and we want everyone to love Opus. The frustrating thing is the review is anonymous, so I can’t respond and try to make things right.

With the ever-increasing popularity of websites like TripAdvisor, Fodors and Yahoo Travel, consumers are more empowered than ever, and hotels are at their mercy. Travellers can now bypass the propaganda on the hotel’s website and go direct to its guests for the real story. The day we hoteliers have always feared has arrived, God help us all. No more smoke and mirrors!

As a traveller, however, I love this new trend. Problem is, consumers don’t always agree. In my search for hotels in Rome for my upcoming vacation, I’ve come across hotel reviews ranging from “THIS HOTEL ROCKS!” to “THIS HOTEL SUCKS!” Which do I believe? Since the reviews are anonymous, how do I know that the “ROCKS!” reviewer isn’t the hotel manager, or his mother? If I follow his advice and it turns out the hotel really does suck, how can I hunt him down and hurt him for spoiling my vacation?

Fortunately, many of these sites rank hotels and give averages, so negative and positive comments tend to balance out. There are also helpful tips and entertaining anecdotes. Whenever I want to feel better about myself I read up on the “worst rated” hotels. Some sites even feature amateur photos. But even the most beautiful hotels look kind of scary without a professional photographer, stylist and supermodels posing as rapturous travellers. As for bogus reviews, TripAdvisor claims to review all submissions before they’re posted, and penalizes hotels for fake reviews. I don't know why a hotel would spend time fabricating reviews anyway; it only sets up false expectations. I’d rather focus on fine-tuning services to generate authentic reviews.

The immature, spiteful side of me sometimes wishes there was a website for hotels to rate guests. I’d give a “not impressed” rating to the guest who trashed a room last weekend and was found naked, drunk and bleeding from the you-know-what in the hallway after getting a Prince Albert (look it up at your own risk!). And I’d give a “very disappointed” rating to the guest who wrote a scathing, libelous letter about me that was published in Condé Nast Traveler after her car was towed from a clearly-marked no-parking zone and I refused to reimburse her. That happened 12 years ago, but I’m still mad. Otherwise, I’d write rave reviews about Opus guests, who are generally well-traveled, super-cool, and spend lots of money. Oh, except for the guy who checked in a few months ago and racked up over $4,000 in charges - with a stolen credit card. I’d probably give him a “do not recommend.”

If you have a bad hotel experience my advice is to contact the general manager directly and give him or her a chance to fix things. Try not to embellish your story or say nasty, malicious things about staff. Listing all the important people you know personally won’t really advance your case, either. Stick to the facts, and present a fair assessment of your experience. If you want compensation, say so. If you’ve been mistreated, any respectable general manager will acknowledge this and will make amends. We didn’t work our way up the ladder in the hospitality business from being petty and defensive.

If you’re not happy with the response, then by all means go ahead and publicize your experience on a travel website. But again, give a fair, rational assessment, which will lend you greater credibility. Try to avoid hyperbole, as in “it was the absolutely most unbelievably worst experience ever in my whole entire life”. Also, go easy on the CAPITAL LETTERS and exclamation marks!!!!! You risk being written off as an embittered, raving, possibly unstable person.

I’m always appreciative when guests take the time to provide feedback, good or bad. Either way, it helps me understand what we’re doing right and what we can do better. Fortunately, I get loads of positive comments and very few negative comments. But it’s the negative comments that keep me up at night. It’s like throwing a party and everyone but one person shows up, but instead of celebrating the amazing turnout you spend the night in a corner obsessing over why that person didn’t show. If you’re like me, you’ll do everything you can to ensure that person shows up next time and has a great time.

Guest comments are always welcome at comments@opushotel.com. All are reviewed and answered by me – unless they’re anonymous.

Rates and favours

2006-07-26T13:47:00.000-07:00

After meeting Stephen Perrine recently, Editor-In-Chief of Best Life magazine and all-around great guy, I picked up the current issue and came across an article by Peter Greenberg, author of Hotel Secrets From the Travel Detective. Mr. Greenberg advises readers looking for hotel room upgrades to call ahead to the general manager or director of sales and establish a relationship. This explains the calls I’ve received lately, seemingly out of the blue, from guests wanting to chat.

I think I speak on behalf of all general managers when I say I hope not many people take Mr. Greenberg’s advice. We’re always happy to hear from guests, but we’re not so eager to hear from guests looking for a free upgrade. If you’re determined to get an upgrade, my advice is to request one at the time of reservation. If the agent can’t confirm it then, ask him or her to note it on your reservation, with a reason for the request if you have one. Management reviews arrivals each day, and they are in the best position to upgrade you if something is available. But don’t have a hissy fit upon arrival if it hasn’t been granted. If you really need a bigger room, pony up.

When hotel managers travel we try to take care of one another, offering a special rate, upgrade or amenity, and sometimes even a comp room. If this sounds like favouritism, it is. GMs are “Connectors”; we have a vast network of contacts in the travel industry and we talk about our brand experiences ad nauseum to anyone who will listen. People come to us for recommendations, and we’re always happy to dispense our sage advice. So it’s in our best interest to recruit one another as brand advocates. It's also nice to have a deposit in the favour bank.

Before I travel I go online to see where I want to stay, then email the general manager to request an industry rate. I almost always get a favourable reply. Except last week, when I contacted Hotel Le Meurice in Paris. It’s more old-world than I tend to like, but I thought it would be fun to experience, and I've heard great things. I almost fell to the floor when I saw their rate: CDN $1,292 per night. They were also offering a “Decoding Da Vinci” package, which I thought was a bit unoriginal and bandwagon-ish, but only because I’m (apparently) the only person on earth who thought the book was semiliterate pulp. (Oops, so much for Dan Brown ever staying at Opus). My request for an industry rate was met with a polite but resounding “Non!” September is peak season, my contact explained, and no discounts are available, not on any day, not at any time, not for anyone. Tres désolée.

I was disappointed, but I do respect the decision, even admire it, and certainly envy it. Oh, to be in a position to banish discounts entirely - let them eat cake! Hotel managers understand better than anyone that peak season - or any busy time - is not the time to ask for favours. We must make hay while the sun shines. So please don’t ask us for a seniors rate for your Aunt Sally during the 2010 Winter Olympics.

As for upgrades, hotels are becoming as tightfisted as airlines. When I worked as a sales manager at Canadian Airlines I was overwhelmed with requests for upgrades, special fares and free flights. I learned from my manager that the industry was changing, and we no longer gave things away, not without a trade of equal value. Unfortunately, this change didn’t happen fast enough for Canadian; they went bankrupt. The same principle applies to hotels. If you want a gift certificate for your golf tournament, be prepared to convince us how the exposure will benefit the hotel. Charities are an exception, but even then the hotel benefits by generating goodwill, helping a good cause, and making staff feel magnanimous.

Incidentally, Mr. Greenberg’s name looked familiar to me, so I looked him up in Guest History, the hotel’s equivalent of Google. Sure enough, he stayed at Opus a while back. Did he get an upgrade? Even better.
He got a comp room.

Hotel Confidential

2006-07-14T12:49:00.000-07:00

At Opus we host lots of media, and in return they write stories about Vancouver and (we hope) say great things about us. Recently I’ve been approached by writers of travel blogs like vagablond.com who want write a review. Tech companies and celebrity publicists have long recognized the ability of popular bloggers to generate buzz. But only recently has the travel industry begun to catch on.

Yesterday I had lunch with a colleague, Mika, from Tourism BC, who told me she wants to host a media fam comprised solely of bloggers. I think it’s a brilliant idea. Now that I’m a blogger, the importance of bloggers in my mind has increased dramatically.

For those not familiar with the term “fam”, it is short for familiarization trip. Hotels and tourism bureaus host groups of travel agents, meeting planners and corporate bookers to allow them to experience a destination firsthand. The objective is show them such an amazing time that they go home and tell everyone. Everything is usually free, which makes me think that bloggers would be very enthusiastic participating.

When Opus first opened we hosted all sorts of fams to get the word out, giving free accommodation to anyone remotely influential in the travel industry. We now restrict fams to media groups and film companies, who generate the best results. For media fams, our publicists in LA and New York corral journalists from a variety of outlets. We put them up for a few nights, host a dinner, and hook them up at various spas, restaurants and attractions. Past notable participants include George Wayne of Vanity Fair and Grant Stoddard of Men’s Health.

One of our more memorable media fams took place at the same time Anthony Bourdain, bad boy chef and author of Kitchen Confidential, was staying at Opus. We invited him to our reception, and over champagne he enthralled us with anecdotes about his life as a celebrity chef and hedonist. Moments earlier, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner had been spotted in the lobby, so everyone was feeling that Opus was quite a fabulous place to be.

Then I noticed smoke billowing from the behind of a man Anthony had arrived with. He had unwittingly backed up against a candle and set his jacket on fire. The jacket went up in flames, everyone screamed, and the man ran around in circles crying out for help. Someone yelled at him to remove the jacket, which he finally did, throwing it to the floor. We all poured our drinks on it (a waste of good champagne), and a banquet server stamped it out.

The man was not hurt, but he was very angry. After uttering veiled threats about suing the hotel, he marched off in a huff, clutching his smoldering jacket, never to be seen again. It turned out that he was not with Anthony; in fact, no one knew who he was. Still, I feared that every piece written by these journalists would start with this story, the lesson being not to crash a party at Opus or you may be set on fire. Fortunately, they focused on the more positive aspects of their stay.

Anthony Bourdain swept into Vancouver once again a few weeks ago, on a tour to promote his new book, The Nasty Bits. I haven’t read it yet, but I loved Kitchen Confidential. We held a reception for him, where he once again regaled local media and staff. Fortunately, this time no one was set on fire.

Something fishy around here

2006-07-07T11:42:00.000-07:00

It’s room inspection time at Opus. Every manager, from sales manager to controller, gets a block of rooms and a detailed list of items to check off. Walls, mirrors and artwork free of smudges? Check. Toilet paper roll folded into a perfect triangle? Check. Magnum Opus CD playing at turndown? Check. Mini-bar liquor bottles watered down? Check.

[kidding about that last one, of course]

It’s a lot of work, and it’s nerve-racking for our room attendants, but getting our managers into the rooms, checking under beds and lifting sofa cushions, is a great way to familiarize them with guestrooms. An eye for detail and general fussiness are prerequisites in this industry. Because if we don’t find it first, a guest will.

Some of the tricks of the trade to ensure a room has been properly cleaned include running your fingers along picture frames, baseboards and the far reaches of closet shelves. Look at things from a guest’s perspective. Place yourself somewhere a guest will go but an employee would not. Lie down on the bed. Sit on the lid of the toilet. It’s amazing what you might discover. Just make sure the room isn’t reserved or you’ll have some explaining to do when a guest walks in.

In addition to room inspections, once a day I do my “rounds” at Opus. This involves inspecting guest floors, outlets, facilities, meeting rooms and the building’s exterior. Along the way I often pick up debris, tidy up the lounge, seat patrons in Elixir or help guests with directions. My noble nature stops at valet parking, for which staff and guests are grateful (see Never a Dull Moment below). After an unfortunate incident in which a guest thought I was stealing her suitcase, I’ve learned to make sure I’m wearing my nametag before helping with luggage.

Years ago, while on my rounds at another hotel I detected the unmistakable odor of fish. I sniffed my way down the hall, the odor growing stronger as I approached the ice machine room. I lifted the lid. Grinning up at me was a large salmon on a bed of ice. It seems a group of executives had just checked in after a fishing expedition, and one of them wanted to keep his catch fresh. We put the salmon in the hotel cooler for safe-keeping, and drained the ice machine.

At Opus we have a program called "A Day In The Life" that allows employees to experience another position in the hotel for a day. A front desk agent can shadow the director of sales. A reservations agent can shadow the catering manager. So far no one has signed up to be general manager, but I’m still hoping, because I could use a day off. I myself am contemplating a day in housekeeping. I like to clean, and I want to gain a better understanding of what makes this department so good at what they do. But I have to admit I fear I might not pass my room inspections.

Miscellaneous thoughts of little consequence

2006-06-30T16:38:00.000-07:00

How’s that for a gripping lead? A few months ago, when Katrina, our director of sales & marketing, came up with the idea of a general manager’s blog I thought it was brilliant. Back then I didn’t realize how hard it would be to come up with new material each week, and to find time to write it. I’m already looking forward to my two-week vacation in September, when I’ll be foisting this job on some unsuspecting colleague. (um, Katrina…?)

Truth is, I didn’t expect anyone to read my posts. But in just a couple of months these pages have been viewed by thousands. I’ve received lots of great comments, and would like to thank those who wrote for your encouraging words.

Interestingly, the only concerns about content came internally, from our LA-based publicists, who feared I had gone too far. What? they cried, you dished the name of the diva who used the F word on you? Eek! What, you admitted that Opus occasionally relocates guests? Double eek! What, you said the word “cleavage”? Triple eek! Their concerns compelled me to go back and soften some of my comments. Ironically, sanitizing my writing made me feel dirty, like I had compromised my artistic integrity. But our publicists are savvy, and they’ve done great things for Opus, so when they cry “Eek!” I listen.

Now, however, I find myself desperate for new content. It’s not that I don’t have a lot to say, the problem is that whenever I come up with an irreverent new idea I hear the publicists crying “Eek!” The pressure to perform within these parameters is daunting. I may have to start making things up.

One fairly innocuous subject I’m considering is chronicling the nine hotels I’ve worked for during my career. Sounds riveting, I know. But there have been interesting moments. For example, in 1996 I accepted, sight unseen, my “dream job” as director of sales & marketing at a resort in Micronesia. Where Micronesia is I’m still not entirely sure. It’s somewhere between Guam and the Philippines, a group of stunningly beautiful islands (pictured above). I signed a two-year contract, gave up my job and my apartment, held a going-away party that rivaled the closing ceremonies of the 2006 Winter Olympics, and got on the plane. It took me 36 hours to get there, and two hours to realize I had made a terrible mistake. A month later I was back in Vancouver, returning everyone’s going-away presents. I’ll explain why in a future post, but suffice it to say that as the plane took off from the island I had my middle finger planted firmly against the passenger window.

In another post I plan to shamelessly plug the mystery novel I wrote, called Murder at The Universe, which will be published in September '07. It’s about a highly dedicated hotel manager whose universe is turned upside down when his colleagues become suspects in the hit-and-run death of the hotel’s beloved owner. The incident occurs after a boozy staff party, on the eve of the arrival of a militant anti-impaired driving conference. General chaos ensues as values clash among hotel staff, activists, guests and the media. It's really fun, and I wrote it all by myself. You can pre-order it on Amazon now.

I should add a disclaimer that all characters in my novel – and the hotel itself – are purely fictional. Already I’ve had to reassure the owners of Opus that I came up with the premise long before I met them, and their lives are safe (for now). The great news is that the publisher has offered me a 3-book deal to develop the novel into a series. I won’t be giving up my day job, though, partly because I love it, and partly because I need new material. But mostly because I pretty much spent the advance celebrating a couple weeks ago.

Well, then, I’ve effectively completed this week’s post with mindless blather. I think that now makes me a bona fide blogger.

We want our word back

2006-06-21T09:39:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, the term “boutique hotel” arrived on the travel scene. Today, it seems like every second hotel is calling itself boutique, from 800-room properties to highway motels to mega chains. There are also boutique salons, ad agencies, law firms, hardware stores and pet stores. Everywhere, businesses are pilfering this precious term to distinguish themselves from the big-box-style retailers. And in the process, they’re ruining it for everyone.

We want our word back. It’s ours.

What exactly is a boutique hotel? Like the word “attractive” in personal ads, the term boutique is used loosely – and often generously – in the hotel industry. To me, a boutique hotel is defined by its size (200 rooms max), its ambience (intimate), its service (personalized), its independence (no chain affiliation) and its outlets (people actually use the restaurant and lounge). The design of a boutique hotel should reflect the city it’s in. And guests shouldn’t have to stumble through revolving doors to get in, or line up at the front desk behind hundreds of cruise ship passengers, or jostle with conventioneers wearing badges and silly hats. In a contemporary boutique hotel, brass and fussy floral arrangements should be banished, along with the music of Vivaldi and portraits of dead people.

When it comes to sullying the boutique name, there are no worse offenders than boutique hotels themselves. Many offer style or substance, but few provide both. Some are built around a hot lounge scene, but service is inconsistent and guestrooms feel like an afterthought (perhaps a deliberate ploy to keep guests out of rooms and in the lounge drinking). Others offer beautiful guestrooms and great service, but the lounge is about as lively as a public library. My favourite boutique hotels have style and substance. In the US they include Hotel Gansevoort and 60 Thompson in New York, The Mondrian and The Viceroy in LA, and Hotel Vitale and The Clift in San Francisco. While not technically boutiques, W hotels and a few of the Four Seasons also do this well.

One thing everyone seems to agree on is that boutique hotels are more expensive. This is partly quality related, partly market related: fewer rooms + high demand = higher rates. But it also has to do with economies of scale. Boutiques don’t order 50,000 bottles of shampoo at one time or serve 1,200 dinner guests. Uniqueness is part of the appeal, of course, and many travellers are willing to pay a premium for it. In the 1970s, the Holiday Inn’s slogan was “The Best Surprise Is No Surprise”. These days, travellers want surprises, as long as they don’t involve lost reservations or rodents scurrying across the floor.

Of course, not every hotel wants to be a boutique, and not every traveller wants to stay in a boutique hotel. Larger hotels can offer more space, better facilities, a more consistent product, and guest loyalty and frequent flier programs. At Opus we maintain that a traveller who chooses a hotel based on how many points she’ll collect toward an upgrade on her next car rental is probably not the best fit for us. There are plenty of other options in Vancouver.

Sometimes it’s fun to stay in big, grand hotels, landmark hotels, historic hotels – as long as they don’t smell musty. The largest hotel in the world is the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, with between 5,690 and 5,034 rooms, depending on the source (I’m not convinced management even knows). It comes with a sports arena, entertainment dome and wedding chapel. In fact, Vegas is home to 17 of the world’s 20 largest hotels. I stayed at The Venetian once (pictured above), which, at 4,027 suites averaging 700 square feet, ranks #4. Upon returning to the hotel each night (okay, each morning) it felt like I had to walk past all 4,000 suites to get to mine. A shuttle bus would have been nice. In Dubai, the upcoming Asia Asia Hotel plans to dethrone the MGM, with a whopping 6,500 rooms – a small city.

All this talk about big hotels is humbling, what with Opus’s mere 96 rooms, no sister properties, and no wedding chapel. Maybe we should become a boutique chain? This term is an oxymoron in my opinion. But some companies, like Kimpton and Joie de Vivre, have succeeded in building a collection while preserving each property’s individual personality. Buoyed by its success with W Hotels, Starwood has introduced aloft hotels, claiming on its website to be “re-imagining the classic American ‘On The Road’ tradition and giving rise to a hotel of new heights. A hotel so far above anything in its class that it can only be called by one name: aloft.” My rough translation: tarted-up motels for thrifty-but-cool travellers, with advertising copy written by a guy who used to write superhero movie trailers.

Now that the chains have stolen the word “boutique”, along with some of our best ideas, we in the boutique business better keep innovating. Fortunately, this is easier for us because we don’t have to wait for approval from corporate office. Stay tuned for advances in in-room technology, entertainment, amenities and environmentally friendly practices, along with even greater personalization.

And we best be finding another word for boutique.

Must Love Smiling

2006-06-12T10:28:00.000-07:00

Last week was a busy one at Opus, with 4 perfect fills in 7 days. We’re currently hiring for positions in reservations, guest services and housekeeping. So if you know anyone who is experienced, has a great attitude, is well mannered and exceptionally competent, we’d like to hear from them. I have friends who might want to marry them, too.

Note, candidates must love smiling. Together with eye contact and guest name usage, smiles form the basics of great guest service. Of course, I’m talking about genuine smiles. Fake smiles, plastic smiles, vacant smiles and smiles that come across as obsequious, condescending or creepy don't quite cut it in this business. It also helps to know when to turn a smile off, like when a guest is yelling at you. But one must never turn off the “can do” attitude. Just ask Corina, our ever-smiling Room Service & Banquets Captain, pictured above.

I once worked with a woman named Nancy who got frazzled frequently, but you never knew it because she hid behind her great smile. She was famous for malapropisms. Once, during a particularly hectic day on the front desk, she picked up the phone and said, “Thank you for helping, how may I hold you?” Another time, craving a cigarette, she picked up the phone and said, “Front desk, Nancy smoking.” She always had a smile on her face, so who could fault her?

Another time I overheard a front desk agent, Lina, also infamous for malapropisms, on the phone with a guest. “Not to worry,” she was saying, “I’ll send an abductor up to your room immediately.” Alarmed, I imagined the terrified guest barricading herself in her room. I asked Lina what was going on. She smiled sweetly. “The guest is from Europe and her hairdryer won’t work in the power outlet.” Her eyes grew wide. “Did I say abductor? Oops. I meant adaptor!”

About 10 years ago I took a break from the hotel business and went to work for Vancouver Film School in marketing. It was a completely new environment for me: casual and creative, more concerned about ideas and stories than, say, appearances and feelings. The instructors had a profound distrust for my fancy clothes and sunny disposition. They labeled me “the suit”, which I discovered was akin to “the scab”. I soon found my kindred spirits in the Acting department, where everyone was always super upbeat and happy. Then I discovered they were only acting.

In the hotel business, a great smile tells guests that you’re here to help and you’re having a good time doing it. It’s a cliché, but smiles are contagious. After a while they become second nature, part of your uniform. Years ago, walking home after long shifts on the front desk, I’d find myself grinning like a halfwit at everyone I passed. But they smiled back, and it made me feel good. Much more effective than scowling. Or flipping the bird.

Smiley, experienced candidates are encouraged to send resumes to careers@opushotel.com.

Silent Shoppers

2006-06-06T16:29:00.000-07:00

Once a year at Opus we recruit “silent shoppers” to stay at the hotel anonymously and evaluate the experience. They book a room like a regular guest, pay full rate, have drinks in the lounge and dinner in the restaurant, order room service, and test the hotel’s facilities and services. To preserve anonymity, we rebate their charges after they’ve checked out. Tough job, I know. But it’s a great investment for the hotel because it provides a detailed, objective assessment of the guest experience.

Two silent shoppers stayed at Opus last month. Their silence is now over; the reports are in. I read through them yesterday, holding my breath, fearing something unusual and horrible might have happened.

The shoppers were Susan, a respected industry veteran who has run some of Vancouver’s best hotels, including the Pan Pacific and the Metropolitan, and Tom, an executive with Morgan’s Hotel Group and formerly with Ritz Carlton. Opus is a contemporary boutique hotel, but we seek a range of backgrounds in our shoppers. Contemporary or traditional, large or small, many of the same standards apply - luxury is luxury. To get a variety of perspectives, sometimes we bring in shoppers with no hotel background. Last year we recruited Chris, a partner with Rethink Advertising, avid traveller and boutique hotel aficionado. His assessment was so impressive we hired his firm to refresh our brand.

At chain hotels I’ve worked at we were always in fear of shoppers, whether from head office, ownership, the management company or a travel rating program like AAA. Our greatest dread was that we would appear in one of these reports as the indifferent employee, or the incompetent one, or the one who spilled hot coffee on the inspector. So we regarded each guest as a potential shopper.

The AAA evaluation process was always interesting. The inspector would arrive in town to check out a bunch of hotels, and by the time he got to ours we had been tipped off. We’d roll out the red carpet, so the inspector’s experience was never that of a typical guest. This was sometimes necessary in order to pass the inspection, however, for AAA criteria is strict and unforgiving, particularly for 5-Diamond hotels. One hotel I worked at had its rating downgraded from 5-Diamond to 4, which was devastating to morale. At the time I feared I was somehow responsible, that my name was highlighted repeatedly in that fateful report, even though I worked in sales and had no contact with the inspector.

Certain membership organizations have sales people they pass off as “inspectors”, dispatching them to hotels to evaluate the experience, then extending an “exclusive invitation" to join the club – for a substantial fee.

One night when I was duty manager at the Pan Pacific we were expecting the chain’s president to check in. His suite had been inspected by virtually every manager, with a meticulousness and paranoia rivalling the Secret Service. Unfortunately, no one recognized him upon arrival. He was registered without ceremony and sent off unescorted to one of the smallest rooms in the hotel. When I found out I was mortified. I chased him down, but he waved me away, insisting on experiencing the hotel from a regular guest’s perspective. Things must have gone okay, because I didn’t get fired.

As for this month’s shoppers reports, I'm happy to say that Opus fared exceptionally well. There is always room for improvement, of course, and the feedback from Tom and Susan will help us to get better. This week I’ll be reviewing the report in detail with all department heads.

And then we can focus our attention on the really important shoppers, our paying guests.

The holy grail of the hotel business

2006-05-26T08:54:00.000-07:00

It’s been a busy week at Opus. The hotel has been sold out all week. Well, almost. The holy grail of the hotel business is the “perfect fill”, when every room is occupied and no guests are relocated. It's proven elusive this week.

Relocating is the hotel industry’s equivalent of an airline bumping a passenger. But hotels do it less frequently and we’re nicer about it. Relocates, or “walks”, are also executed more discreetly by hotels; for starters, we don’t announce your name over the intercom. It usually happens late at night, often to a poor, unsuspecting traveler who stumbles in after a horrendous day of travel (which may or may not have included getting bumped from a flight). It’s a nasty way to treat a guest, and hotels try to compensate by paying for the room at another hotel. And being really, really nice when they return. If they return.

Like airlines, hotels overbook to maximize revenues, banking on no-shows. We have revenue managers whose responsibility is to eke every possible dollar out of each room. This is not the person you want to talk to when you’re looking for a deal.

Understandably, a relocated guest can be a very nasty person. In overbooking situations managers pore over the arrivals list, trying to guess who will show and who won’t, and assign rooms accordingly. As guests arrive the available rooms diminish, and stress levels climb. It’s usually the poor, sleep-deprived night staff who have to deal with relocates, even though they are rarely responsible for overbookings.

As night manager at the Pan Pacific, I made a calculated risk that a family of eight from Dubai wasn't going to show. So I gave their 3 suites to a group of businessmen who looked like they’d eat me alive if I relocated them. As I was handing them their keys, announcing to their applause that they had all been upgraded to suites, the Dubai family arrived. An altercation ensued in which the family demanded their rightful suites. Eventually, the businessmen prevailed, and the family was relocated. They were so abusive I had to call security for protection.

The trick with relocating is to send the guest to a hotel that is nice enough that she won’t be even further outraged, but not so nice that she will never return to your hotel. But sometimes the city is so booked you have little choice. In the past I’ve had to relocate people to distant suburbs. Try telling a guest he’s being relocated from a luxury downtown hotel to the Best Western Coquitlam Inn.

Years ago, at the Harbour Castle Westin in Toronto a computer “glitch” resulted in an overbooking of 150 rooms. We set up tables at the hotel entrance so that guests couldn’t even get inside before they were relocated. The entire executive committee occupied these tables, which I thought was pretty impressive, particularly because that meant I didn't have to do it.

Of course, at Opus we never relocate. Okay, almost never.

Last week we relocated a guest due to a late-night plumbing problem, but he was very understanding, and came back the next day. Last year, a guest’s dog got sick all over a room just prior to checkout. The dog was just a tiny thing, but the stench was so overwhelming it could have been an elephant. Housekeeping steam-cleaned the carpet several times over, but the odor persisted. Colin, our guest services manager, furiously reassigned rooms as one by one our guests arrived. By 2:00am we were down to one arrival and one smelly room. Colin prayed this last guest would no-show. But in walked the happy couple – direct from their wedding reception.

As a sidenote, the owner of this subversive little dog (pictured above, the chubby, guilty-looking one on the left) belonged to our former general manager, David Curell, who was back for a visit. He's now at Hotel Vitale in San Francisco. Apparently they're not pet-friendly at Vitale.

Normally we never relocate guests celebrating a special occasion, but they don’t always tell us this at time of reservation. A couple we relocated last year was celebrating the husband’s 50th birthday. They were enormously upset when we relocated them to the Four Seasons. I called the husband the following Monday to make amends, and was mortified when he accused us of relocating them because they were "too old". There must have been a pretty young crowd in the lounge that night. I sent them a gift certificate for a return stay, but they haven’t come back yet.

Tonight looks promising for a perfect fill. We’re sitting at "0": 58 rooms occupied and 38 arrivals. If there are no cancellations, no unexpected stayovers and no no-shows, we’ll have a perfect fill.

Let’s hope no wedding couples arrive unexpected in the wee hours of the morning.

Courting divas

2006-05-18T09:32:00.000-07:00

People often think that being a general manager is a glamorous life.
It certainly has its moments, but sometimes it’s like having your dream job at Disneyland – in the accounting office. You know you work for Disney because you see the logo on every bill you send out. And you can tell people you work for Disney. But you never actually get to see Tinkerbell, ride Space Mountain or shake hands with Goofy.

That's Opus to the upper right. My office is located three floors below ground level, which is great if you’re anticipating a bombing, but not so great if you want to have your finger on the pulse of hotel operations. Our guest services staff get to see all the action. They got to see Gwen Stefani come and go and got to chat with Lenny Kravitz. Neither ventured down to P3. Even the minibar attendant knows more about what’s going on in the hotel than I do. But if I ever really want to know what a guest is up to, I ask the housekeeping staff.

Years ago, when I worked at the Sutton Place in Toronto, it was a celebrity magnet. I had the more glamorous role of front desk agent back then, so I got to meet all of them. I stopped being starstruck after a while. Our general manager was so desperate to hobknob with stars it was embarrassing. The second he caught wind of a celebrity he was out sniffing around the lobby. He insisted on meeting all of them. The hotel bar had an entire wall of signed publicity photos of stars.

These days, stars are simply not interested in meeting the hotel manager. They never actually were. At Opus we give star treatment to all guests. Celebrities are treated with extra care, of course, but in a subtle, non-intrusive manner. There’s no giddy general manager waiting in the wings to waste their time. I simply leave an amenity and welcome note in their room inviting them to contact me directly for assistance. But they never call. And I’m not hurt.

I've done my share of "meet-and-greets" for stars, and my encounters with “divas” are the most memorable. I waited until 3:30am to greet a certain A-list diva at Opus after her concert. She sailed past me in a post-concert delirium, swarmed by handlers, a pack of yappy little dogs running circles around us. I followed her to the elevator to escort her up to her suite. But she screamed at me to “Close the f**king door!” before I got in. That was the last I saw of her.

Another time I waited until 4:00am to greet Cher. I was nodding off at the front door of Opus when a convoy of tour busses rolled in. Dozens of people spilled out, but no Cher. She decided to forfeit her luxury penthouse suite for the bus.

When I greeted Janet Jackson at the Metropolitan Hotel I was pretty nervous. Sources had warned me that she doesn't like anyone touching her or looking into her eyes. I wasn’t sure how I'd pull off a meet-and-greet given those limitations. But she climbed from her SUV and marched right up to me, shaking my hand. “Hi! I’m Janet,” she said with a bright smile. She stayed with us for a month and was delightful.

I’m a fan for life.

Does that room come with a midwife?

2006-05-17T08:41:00.000-07:00

People often ask me about the strangest request I’ve had as a hotel manager. Having been in the business for over 12 years, I’ve encountered my share. The one that comes to mind happened recently, here at Opus.

A woman – a seemingly rational, articulate, sane woman – contacted me to ask if it would be possible for her to check into a room and, um, give birth in it. She explained that she wanted to have a “natural” childbirth, but needed to be close to a hospital in case something went wrong. She identified every conceivable objection I might have, which she outlined in an email as:

1. Liability
2. Mess
3. Noise/Chaos
4. What if something went wrong?

She addressed each issue in turn, promising to keep screaming down to a minimum and, very considerately I thought, offering to bring her own sheets and towels. She assured me that she had no problem with being rushed to the hospital by ambulance if necessary. “Admittedly,” she said, “that might cause a few stares in the lobby, but this is only the worst case scenario.” She also promised not to wander the halls or public areas. I envisioned her going door to door with her newborn baby, telling guests, “Oh yes, I just had her down the hall in #503.”

She also urged me to think of the great publicity we could get. We could issue a media release like a birth announcement! Now I’m not one to shy away from publicity, but what our sweet, thoughtful mother-to-be hadn’t considered was how the guest who checks into the room after her might feel.

Many couples have told us their babies were conceived at Opus. Some send us baby pictures. One couple even named their daughter after us. That’s Stella May Opus Broom pictured above, daughter of the guitarist with Jann Arden. (Note the logo on her shirt.) But so far, no one (as far as we know) has ever given birth at Opus. We’re a hotel, not a maternity ward, and we’d like to keep it that way.

So, I politely declined, inviting her to stay at Opus for a birthday or anniversary instead.

Never a dull moment

2006-05-11T08:06:00.000-07:00

So. A hotel manager’s blog. Maybe a first in the industry, likely not the last. This blog is inspired by a series of columns I wrote in the National Post about the daily life of a hotel manager. There is an enormous amount of interest in the behind-the-scenes workings of luxury hotels. Or so I like to think. Truth is, I’m not sure if anyone actually read my columns. Even friends and family are a bit vague when asked.

Without a doubt, hotels can be fascinating places. Things are rarely as calm and dignified in the "back of the house" as they are in the "front of the house". It's an ideal setting for a reality TV show. In fact, Opus participated in one a while back called Crash Test Mommy. The premise: harried mother with lots of bratty kids switches lives with childless friend. Mom checks into luxury hotel for weekend of pampering while "friend" checks into her home for weekend of Kids Gone Wild. That's Mom pictured above getting her hair done while she watches her kids terrorize her "friend" via webcam.

I made a cameo appearance as the obsequious hotel manager in one episode, and my entire belief system was shattered when I discovered that “reality” TV involves a lot more acting than reality. A scene in which I toured the ecstatic mother through her penthouse suite had to be reshot repeatedly because I kept flubbing my lines. After the suite scene, we went back and staged the arrival scene. Due to a staff shortage I had to sub in as the chauffeur. Mom played it up for the camera as we pulled up, oohing and aahing as though it were her first look at Opus and we hadn't just spent hours filming inside. I accidentally drove the hotel car onto the sidewalk, almost taking out a bellman. That was the end of my reality TV career.

I’d like to say there’s never a dull moment when you're in charge of a luxury hotel. But, sadly, there are lots of dull moments. But not to worry, in this blog I’ll take Stephen King’s advice to writers: I'll leave out the boring parts. I’ll focus on daily challenges and rewards of running a hotel, on some of the more unusual situations I've encountered, and, yes, on some of my most humiliating experiences. Who knows, I might even dish some dirt. But I'll always protect the privacy of our guests, which is paramount. Oh, and I promise to be a blogger, not a flogger - I'll keep Opus propaganda to a minimum. The hotel's track record speaks for itself.

I hope you enjoy.