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Noisy
Neighbors
The
Travel Critic · April
12, 1999
The sound of gunshots jarred Dave
Vallett from a slumber early one morning in a hotel in Rome, N.Y.
The explosions seemed to be coming from a room that belonged to the members
of a men's softball team. So Vallett called the receptionist, who promised
to check out the commotion. When the shots continued, he phoned again,
pleading with the clerk.
"He said, 'We'll let security know about it," says the Burlington, Vt.,
computer analyst. But the shots didn't stop. Finally as dawn approached,
he remembers, "the explosions abated."
A few hours later, during checkout, he was both relieved and angered to
find out that the popping sounds were cherry bombs being set off by the
partying softball team. The property manager shrugged off his complaints,
agreeing to deduct only a few dollars from his bill for the sleepless
night.
An isolated incident? Not these days, with occupancy rates pushing all-time
highs. The average daily occupancy rate was 72.6 percent in 1998, according
to lodging analysts PKF Consulting in San Francisco. However, rates in
major cities where business travelers go were significantly higher. Boston,
for example, had an 80 percent occupancy rate last year. So did San Francisco.
In Chicago, it was 76 percent. And New York's was 82 percent.
Clashes between frequent travelers and fun-loving tourists are becoming
more common as rooms at the inn become more scarce.
Pam Lontos, a motivational speaker based in Orlando, Fla., got stuck in
the second half of a suite at the Las Vegas Hilton during a recent broadcasting
convention. The first half was hosting a reception for delegates.
"The noise started at 11 p.m.," she recalls. "There was a lot of talking
and it kept getting louder. It was like a low rumble, with occasional
laughing. I couldn't sleep."
Lontos phoned the front desk and explained her predicament, adding, "you
need to move me to another room."
Around midnight, three bellmen showed up at her door and moved her to
a different floor.
"I found that the key is how you speak to the staff," she says. "You don't
get mad, because they won't want to help you. You tell them what you need.
You have to give them a reason for why you need it. For example, I said
to them, 'I have an early morning speech and I need your help.' And I
got what I wanted."
Hotels aren't entirely oblivious to the problem. At the Hotel Windsor
in Philadelphia, for instance, business travelers and families each have
a designated floor, which usually keeps executives from losing sleep because
of a screaming infant or an amorous couple.
Ditto for the Westin Seattle, which sets aside several levels for its
preferred guests. "Odds are that most guests who stay on these floors
are not traveling with their family," hotel spokeswoman Valerie O'Neil
said. Wyoming's Blair Hotels chain even uses brick partitions to physically
separate its business rooms from the rest of the property to ensure that
frequent guests aren't disturbed.
But the measures don't always work, particularly when a property is booked
solid. That's when a little creativity can help. When the Hollywood Roosevelt
Hotel recently hosted a record company executive, it was operating at
capacity, says sales manager Mike McCoy. "We reserved a room for him on
the business floor, as we usually do for corporate guests. However, occupancy
was high and we had a family of four in the room next door," he says.
The executive, who was used to staying up late and sleeping until noon,
was awoken by the kids early the next morning. But with no free rooms,
McCoy couldn't move the family.
Solution: The Roosevelt offered the family free tickets to an amusement
park "so they would get out of the hotel." McCoy adds, "the cost was insignificant
to us. Losing [the executive's] account would have been much more detrimental."
At least some hoteliers know who butters their bread. It's a shame most
of us can't abandon the property that puts us in a room next to partying
teens or noisy newlyweds.
Fact is, a majority of frequent travelers are trapped with a given hotel
chain thanks to corporate travel policy. And despite all the rhetoric
and creativity, the hotels know they've got business travelers exactly
where they want them. The only solution, as I see it, is to turn the tables
on the innkeepers.
Follow Lontos' advice, but if that doesn't work, become the proverbial
squeaky wheel. Squeak loudly.
Call the front desk until you're moved or the offending noisemaker is
removed. It's the only reasonable solution I can think of.
Christopher
Elliott is a travel commentator and author of A
Bridge to Nowhere: A Year in the Florida Keys. All e-mailed questions
may be edited, condensed or republished at the site's discretion.
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