Review: Two weekends of Ritz
I’m a lucky travel consultant. A few of my clients spend a lot of money on some very upscale hotels, with the result that I’m viewed as a decision manager for a lot of travel spending. That has its perks, most recently back-to-back weekends at Ritz-Carlton properties in New York and San Francisco.
The Ritz-Carlton Battery Park
The worst time for the electronic lock on your hotel door to die is when you’re drunk and done at 3:30am. And that’s exactly when mine gave up the ghost my second night at the Ritz Battery Park.
After trying and failing to stumble walk from the Lower East Side back to Battery Park at 2:30 in the morning, the last thing I was in the mood for was twenty minutes hanging out in the hallway while half the maintenance staff worked on my door. To their credit, they were completely professional despite the late hour and my bad attitude, and resolved the problem relatively quickly. Sorry for the drunk hate tweets, Ritz. No hard feelings?
Less pretentious than its sister just off Madison Avenue, this Ritz is a modern, welcoming property tucked away in a quiet corner of southwest Manhattan in a modern, mid-rise tower. From the casually sophisticated lobby to my quiet and roomy one bedroom suite, this hotel had the right mix of elegance, luxury and class for this travel blogger.
Verdict: Recommended if you can swing the price tag. Convenient to downtown, Battery Park (duh) and the Lex Ave subway line.
The Ritz-Carlton San Francisco
Far more self-important and geriatric than its New York cousin, the Ritz-Carlton San Francisco gave off a vibe that only your wealthy, east coast grandparents would love. The property is as beautiful and opulent as you’d expect a Ritz to be, and the staff lovely and accommodating, but there was something about this hotel that left me unimpressed. Granted, my tastes are best summed up by Westin and W Hotels: sleek, modern and too-cool-for-school (not unlike myself).
Whether it was the dated decor or the Easter colors adorning every wall in sight, I was left with the impression that the property is several years overdue for a thorough update. Small televisions and am ambiance of 1978 in the room didn’t help. And while the gentlemen in the top hats out front were lovely fellows, the whole show was a bit over-the-top and cartoonish. Even I had a hard time taking that level of swank seriously.
Verdict: Great place for your grandparents to stay, but if you’re a luxury hound under 60 head down to SoMa and get a room at the St. Regis.
