A famous hotel. Cult, even. On paper it sits in the Grand Hyatt portfolio, but it markets itself under its own name.
At check-in, a trainee under the watchful eye of a senior colleague uttered the magic word “upgrade”. He said it with a Shanghai accent, which drained some of the magic out of it. The room turned out to be perfectly ordinary. I didn’t have the fight in me to go back and argue the toss.
You lot never like my hotel reviews anyway. So roughing it for one night would do.
In keeping with fine Hyatt tradition, two guests were asleep in the lounge. One of each sex. Inclusivity quota met, ecosystem stable.
For such a cultural-shmultural landmark, the prices aren’t remotely prohibitive. For my date β $180.
I couldn’t bear to part with the cash. Redeemed a Category 1β4 certificate.
Fun fact: the film “Hector and the Search for Happiness” plugged this hotel to the hilt.
But that apparently wasn’t enough for Hyatt. The director, one suspects, was slipped a little something extra for publicly humiliating Marriott.
The scene goes roughly like this: Hector admits he’s staying at the Marriott, defends it with a feeble “well, it’s central”, and his new acquaintance, visibly pained, whisks him straight off to Hyatt on the Bund to show him what happiness really looks like.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPwKDAQhnmY
Hyatt β one love π
