I'm in an extended NYC stint, with no travel plans on the books (this will change soon). So take a look at this fantastic ad for the new, partially complete Standard Hotel in New York City. The Standard is the property that floats above the soon-to-be-completed High Line park.
The ad is so perfect, and the price is so cheap, I might have to check in. Anyone want to check out the banging with me?
Hat tip to my long-time partner in all things travel, Billy, for this.
Last week I was on a business trip to LA. Lucky for me, I stayed in a different fabulous hotel nearly every night, as part of the project. Below are the pools of three of the hotels I visited. Can you name them?
The first person to call them by their names gets a slice of Billy's Bakery's Banana Cake, on me. Where was I?
I'm lucky. My dad lives in Del Mar, so I don't have to think about where to stay when I visit the San Diego area. But if you're less fortunate, I'll tell you where NOT to stay. Do not stay at the Grand Hyatt, the Grand Del Mar or the Whitetail Club. Why not? Because each of these properties is owned by a rich, religion-blinded jerk named "Papa Doug Manchester" who donated $125,000 to the November California ballot initiative that seeks to ban same-sex marriage in the state. His donation went a long way towards enabling the operation that gathered the necessary signatures to put the measure to vote.
I'm lucky (I'll say it again). My papa has always stood up for equality and fairness, even when those around him haven't done the same. I'm sure he'd be proud to stand up at my gay wedding (oh wait, I don't have a boyfriend). Sad to say, "Papa" Doug wouldn't do the same. His grandkids (and their kids) are the losers. And so is Doug.
It's the weekend. And there are clouds in the forecast. So why not take a moment and peruse the 12 hotels featured in Conde Nast Traveler's annual Best New Hotel Designs, 2008.
The list is positively lust-inducing. I'd stay at any of these hotels in a New York Minute, but if I had to pick one I'd go for La Purificadora. Why? Because it's in Puebla, Mexico ... and I'm feeling all Mexican these days. Besos, David
... to stay in this hotel. It was designed by Frank Gehry. It's part of Starwood's Luxury Collection. It's in Elciego, in the Spanish Basque country. And it's called the Hôtel Marques de Riscal.
What does $106 a night get you in Manhattan? It gets you a room at the top – or is it bottom? – rated hotel on Trip Advisor's 2008 list of the "Dirtiest Hotels in the U.S." Surely you've seen the iconic red neon sign for this Times Square hotel. Click here to discover its name.
Fortunately for me, I'm spending this weekend in San Francisco ... in the "David Alport Guest Suite" at my friends Scott and Steve's house. Best of all, their cleaning service arrives at 8:30am tomorrow morning. Have a spic and span and sunny weekend. I know I will.
Tonight is Halloween, so you might think this woman (man?) is getting ready for the Greenwich Village Parade.
But she (he?) isn't. This is a promotional image for The Spa Experience, a showcase for 50 leading spas that
is being held in Vanderbilt Hall of Grand Central Terminal starting today and running through Saturday. The event is sponsored by SpaFinder.
My hunch is that you'll have to claw your way to any booth offering free treatments, so get your nails done in advance. More important, you'll be able to gather loads of info for planning your next spa getaway.
Check it out, and if you win a free weekend away for two, don't forget Yours Truly. My bag is packed.
For three years in the early 90s I dated an Italian uomo named Marcello. He was (and still is) a flight attendant for Alitalia. Marcello and I traveled to all sorts of amazing places together. Here we are in Florence (Firenze to you). During those years we had a lot of fun ... and a lot of fights.
In addition to being my "life partner" for three years, Marcello was also a bit of a germ freak. He stayed in hotels constantly (of course) and refused to let me walk around in my bare feet in any hotel room, no matter how many stars. He also had a thing about bedspreads, and the first thing he did when arriving in his hotel room was rip the comforter OFF the bed and put it in a corner.
I absorbed these neuroses from Marcello, and I've become very 'other-people's-dirt'-sensitive in my own right. The truth is, Marcello knew what he was talking about. Proving this fact, the current issue of Conde Nast Traveler features an article on the dirt and germs that live in the typical hotel room, highlighting where they are most plentiful. Read it if you dare. Go Marcello!
Back in the day – when I ran Out & About – we annually announced our Editor's Choice Awards for the best in gay travel. Our round-up included a "Rock Bottom" designation, calling out the places that were least welcoming to gays and lesbians. Sandals Resorts often headed the list, though many of the designees changed their policies after our articles generated unfavorable press for them.
TripAdivor – the consumer travel review site – announced its own awards of dubious distinction this week: "The 10 Dirtiest Hotels in the U.S." It's a clever press generator, and the article will probably turn around a few of the properties. The Hotel Carter is the only one I the list that I know, as I see its sign whenever I'm in Times Square. The place looks cheap and dirty from the outside. Now it's confirmed: The Hotel Carter is filthy inside too.
Personally, though, I'm 100% in support of the Hotel Carter and its dirt. I find it reassuring to know that there's still a little bit of grit in Times Square. Damon Runyon would be smiling.
Note: For a bunch of photos showing how grungy the Carter is, check out Flickr.
This past weekend, after 7 long weeks, I left the sunny shores of Manhattan. Fi-na-lly!
I traveled up to Amherst, Mass. to attend the wedding of my dear friend Howard. Schnauerd (as I call him) joined the assembly line at American Express about the same time I did. Accompanying me to his wedding were two other former Amex minions – Eugene and Linda – both of whom are too fabulous for words.
The weekend was ostensibly about the love of Howard and his bride Laura. My psychic energy, though, revolved entirely around a different Howard... Howard Johnson.
You see, I waited until the last minute to book a room. Which meant I got SOLD OUT of the just-built Holiday Inn Express. No Vacancy. No Room at the Inn.
My only option in Hadley, Mass was the HoJos. Above is a picture of Linda and me on arrival. You wouldn't be nuts if on first glance you mistook the building for the Hadley Correctional Facility for wayward boys and girls.
Linda and I made the best of our stay. We ironed our wedding clothes. We took showers and shampooed with product that smelled like Cadbury's Chocolate Orange. We soaked up the sun and marveled at the view outside our door: the parking lot and Staples. We watched a Susan Lucci's "Youthful Essence®" infomercial. We considered eating the continental breakfast, but didn't. And we laughed our asses off.
Here's to you ... Howards. For the first one, my wish is years of marital bliss. For the second, some new linens.
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