i kept the slippers
Maybe six months on a hard Chinese mattress has turned me into a softie, but I’m ready to declare the beds at the Shanghai Four Seasons Hotel the most comfortable in the world. I had the delight of dozing on a king-size one last weekend … and I felt like I was floating.
Really, the entire weekend was a dream, an odd out-of-body experience that had me hovering somewhere between the reality of China and an artificial adaptation of America, which I generally only see in the movies (or when I happen to be traveling with my friend Veronica).
It was like a vacation abroad without all the visa hassles. There were no language barriers. Everyone I encountered last weekend spoke English. The total on my bill at checkout time was listed in dollars not yuan. Service was spectacular, as it should be at a place like this. I received things before I realized that I wanted them:
You know, I could really go for some fresh ora …
“Glass of fresh orange juice, sir?”
You know, I could really see better in this pool if I had a pair of …
“Goggles, sir?”
You know, I’m not British but this afternoon would be perfect if I only had a spot of …
“Here’s your hot tea, sir.”
The robes in the room were soft and fluffy (I’m wearing the slippers as I write this story), and the people inside my television sets (I had two of them) actually spoke English. The attendant at the spa — after my laps in the pool and my sessions in the sauna and steam rooms — even offered to dry my swim trunks for me. And I let him … after I took my swim trunks off.
It all came with a price, of course. My room was US$248 a night, which is half my monthly salary and $54 more than the average annual net income of a rural family living in Xinjiang. At Jazz 37 — the hotel’s classy top-floor lounge-with-a-view, where the live performer croons in English and hails from Chicago — the cheapest glass of wine is more than $10. Most of the hotel guests I encountered were Caucasian, not Asian. This is not a location built for the locals.
I am not a local. I speak English, not Chinese. I like an American-style breakfast, not an Asian one. But still, I felt like an outsider during my 24 hours at the Four Seasons. It wasn’t my world. Sure, I slept well. I ate well. I enjoyed all the perks, even something as pedestrian as watching TV without the mute button on. But that got old — one hour of Iraq coverage was about all I could take.
I left the Four Seasons refreshed, ready to renew my relationship with reality. I returned to my room at Shanghai University and lay on my board-like bed.
You know, I could sure go for a cold beer right now.
I waited a while, and … nothing. I got up and fetched the bottle myself. I knew I was home.
03.07.2003, 12:07 PM · Observations
3 Comments
Everyone needs a small vacation from reality ever so often.
I enjoyed your story. Thank you : )
next time u wanna ‘float’,try radisson shanghai,i think it is the finest hotel in town:)
big fan of ur spirited wit.u really rock.
You should try a bed at Marriot in Central in Hong Kong. I love their beds and pillows.