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| - I stayed at this hotel on June 3 to June 5. While the architecture, and the fact that it is tightly linked with the genius that is Frank Lloyd Wright, is worth at least a night's stay, the overall experience is somewhat confusing and a mish-mash forcing one to ponder whether one has experienced an elite bastion of resort history or a dying emblem of what might have been.
I stayed at the Ocatilla -- the "hotel within a hotel." The room was well-appointed and delightfully lush compared with my friends' off-the-rack accommodations which appeared somewhat worn and needing refurbishment.
As part of the Ocatilla, one is promised amenities such as a shoe-shine and pressing service. None of which was ever offered, nor seemed realistically obtainable.
The Ocatilla executive club room was tightly guarded. Indeed, when my room key would not open the club room door, I was asked for my name and room number and I was somewhat humbled that I just might have entered under dubious circumstances. The offerings for breakfast were carbohydrates only, with an exception for yogurt in a martini glass. And I did see at least two gusts bring in their own cereal.
The swimming pool near my room, one of several on the property, was delightful. As I'm not much for Phoenix sunlight, we reveled in the salt water pool at night. With few people present, it was a great deal of fun and was by far the most fun I've had in a while.
The spa was not so delightful. The men's locker room was eery, with lockers being close to the door. To walk into such a small area with retiree genitalia flailing may be entertaining to some, but can be somewhat disturbing for those with higher expectations. The attendants that were on staff ranged from over-reaching (acceptable) to a too-young apprentice who I overheard talking with a loud-mouthed receptionist about the horrors of toilet paper remnants lodged in women's pubic hair. While anyone able to afford the high prices should be strong, who among us should be that strong?
The spa's manicurist was terrific. I just wished there would have been a more private area in which to have my hooves trimmed. Passersby were gawking through the windows and it reminded me of a cheap Asian nail establishment in the Indianapolis mall.
My overall experience memory stems from my initial check-in experience. The Waldorf sent an E-mail after I had made my reservation that said that, if available, when I checked in I could spend an additional $20 to be upgraded. When I mentioned this to the desk clerk she had no idea what I wa talking about and said: "Well, you already have an Ocatilla executive room." Though I was silent, my reply should have been: "Honey, if you told me I could have something a little better for twenty bucks, then make it happen." Oversold. Under-delivered.
That I was with friends a week after my mother's death was cool. But the physical experience was lacking. My opinion only, but I think this property was built for a timeless level of service that time and numbed expectations will deny her.
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