The Secret Life of the Hotel Shopping Bag

luggage, secret, Uncategorized

Attention four-star and five-star hotel hoppers: You know you’ve seen it there, lurking in the closet above the logo-emblazoned single-use slippers and plastic laundry bag. Your first reaction is probably something like, “Hey, that’s a really nice looking shopping bag!” to be swiftly followed by something like, “But hey, why did they stick a shopping bag in the hotel room closet? After all, it’s a hotel room, not a shop.” Followed, after a fumble as you reach out to touch it — thick! sturdy! glossy! — by a third wave of reactions: “What am I supposed to do with it? Am I supposed to use it? Am I allowed to keep it?”

Damn you, hotel shopping bag! You come on so innocently but really the angst that follows, sometimes it really is too much. We’ll think about you later, and about how you sit there in the dark night after night branding yourself in silence after we Instagram that room service menu that faux-tantalizes us with the promise of $28 challah French toast plus 15% room service charge, no gratuity included. . .

After all, when in your hotel room you’re supposed to think of other things like the bed or the bathroom or leaving your hotel room to go out and explore, or about things like airports and train stations and taxis and packing and unpacking and packing again and yes, that’s when your mind turns once again to that quixotic creature in your temporary closet, the monogrammed, or sort of monogrammed hotel shopping bag. Could you–I mean what if you—could you seriously even—why yes, I even have, and more than once!–think of it as a complimentary complementary suitcase? YES! YES! YES!

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I found this fine crisp specimen inside my Pure Room at the Galaxy Hotel in Heraklion, Crete.

 

But like most pairings, what at first seems like a natural match can drift into the domain of delusion, and end up as a downright pain in the derriere.

Allow moi to tripsplain: Let’s say you’re in Paris. You arrive at your hotel with your favorite suitcase. After a day in Paris you buy a couple souvenirs. After two days you’ve acquired a bunch of new stuff in a variety of shopping bags, some nice, some just cheap plastic. After three days you’ve accumulated so much crap because you’re such a that you’re contemplating buying an extra suitcase but–why should you when that sweet hotel shopping bag beckons? Just use it as that extra suitcase! And impress all those losers in the security line (you know, the tightwads who wouldn’t spring for TSA Pre) with the  fancypants paper imprint of the Park Hyatt or Ritz or wherever you just had your (hopefully not too woefully scripted) luxe chain hotel experience.*

*Because the hotel shopping bag phenomenon is not widely seen outside the larger luxury hotels, although there are exceptions. Anyway…

Just do it! DOOO IT! Grab that bag! But hold the 420, it smells bad. Do it like so: think stacking.

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That’s a hotel shopping bag from the lovely Sofitel Athens Airport Hotel, which made it through round one without a hitch: it’s pictured above, on top of my carry-on, in the lobby of the St. George Lycabettus Hotel in Athens. Shopping bags and cross-town taxi rides make for easy bedfellows.

Making it to round two, i.e. getting through airport security, is another matter altogether.

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Shopping Bag Zero: the first known shopping bag was made of hard clay and used by the Minoans for various shopping needs. Prototype for the modern hotel shopping bag today?

 

The problem is this: if like me you have seen the hotel shopping bag as a cost-free substitute for an extra suitcase, you will proceed to pack it up like one. Only it isn’t one, which will became painfully evident as everything falls out of it once you tilt it over to send it through the X-ray machine.

But let’s suppose you didn’t overstuff it and it does make it through the security process intact. It’s surely going to get scuffed between the terminal and the tarmac, so once you finally get home, if you’re going to try to impress your neighbors or fellow grocery shoppers with that hotel brand-emblazoned shopping bag, it’s fine but it will be clear that you are no Kim Kardashian, not even Dubai-dwellin’ LiLo and that you had no limousine or VIP service, that you did all the heavy lifting on this trip yourself, and that despite the glamorous patina momentarily conferred upon you by the ever-flirtatious hotel shopping bag, your dreams are as tattered as it is now, and you are still a loser.

Oh God damn you, hotel shopping bag!

*

Do you have a Hotel Shopping Bag story of your own? Great! Keep it to yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On Losing My Ryanair Virginity

airlines, europe, ryanair, Uncategorized

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My principal fear is that it will never be as good as the first time.

True, I never intended to fly Ryanair, the Irish low-cost carrier that has generated more passenger horror stories than perhaps any other airline today barring United. Recent work assignments tethering me to Greece, I had sworn silent allegiance to Aegean Airlines, which is now more or less the official carrier of Greece. Supporting the Greek economy, yadda yadda.

But after flying Ryanair #3565 non-stop from Thessaloniki (SKG) to Copenhagen (CPH), I’m not so sure. After all, mistaking brand loyalty for a virtue is slightly un-capitalistic, no?

Whatever. The slightly complex truth is that both carriers are doing good and interesting things (as opposed to Delta and United who with their crazy Basic Economy tactics are doing really dumb things), meaning the competition that’s been brewing for a while is about to heat up. I knew it the second I saw a Ryanair jet disgorge a full load at Chania airport, of all places. But after all, what had brought me to Thessaloniki in the first place? Why, a lovely Aegean A320 that had swooped in sweet and low over the shimmering Thermaic Gulf from an overheated tarmac down in Heraklion, Crete. Even if there was a ferry around that covered that ground, you wouldn’t want to be on it. The boat from Piraeus to Heraklion alone is a nine-hour ordeal, but I digress.

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Aegean has got Greece covered. And yet…

The state of the hobbled Greek economy is such that there is no Greek carrier that connects New York with Athens. #Tragic, right? Like we are supposed to sit back and be tickled that Emirates has stepped up to fill in that yawning gap? Hmm…do they allow Israelis on board their American-built aircraft? How about homosexuals? Oh, as long as they don’t kiss and frighten the children? We’ll wait for the marketing people in Dubai to get back to us on that one…

So Ryanair sweet baby, you pretty much had me at that 46€ one-way. I mean really? Fifty bucks for a fairly long, three-hour flight that was basically the perfect fit for my transatlantic connection on Norwegian, minimizing my wait time in the sleek Scandinavian dungeon that is CPH airport? SOLD! Bear in mind that the lowest fare around the third week in May from Athens to Copenhagen non-stop on Aegean was $121, plus add an additional 30€ for a bag and boom, you’re looking at $150. With that in mind, I sprang for the Priority Leisure+ fare on Ryanair, which included one checked bag plus seat selection and priority boarding–none of which were options on that $121-ish Aegean fare.

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And before you know it, because your time is always cruelly up quicker than you think in the Mediterranean (don’t even get me started on Tel Aviv), there I was at SKG, with my boarding pass pre-printed and in hand so as to avoid a frankly insane 50€ airport check-in surcharge and maybe it’s just because people  really are nicer in Thessaloniki (what is this, like the Phoenix of the Balkans or something? People smiling at 6AM and stuff? Weird). Suitcase whisked off, easy. One last smack-me Greek coffee, Oh God am I going to miss this place, and off to the gate and there are a ton of people in line and I can barely deal, but hey, for once I don’t fucking have to because with my Priority boarding I sail right past ’em and before I know it I’m on board and plopped down in aisle seat 7C. A pretty Greek lady offers me a mint. Was that ridiculously easy or what? No wonder they call it easyJet!!

Oh wait, this is Ryanair…well who can mind these details when you’re losing your religion/virginity/brand loyalty? Seriously though no matter what you were doing the night before or who you were doing it with, there can be no mistaking the interior of a Ryanair 737-800 for any other airplane. The wet lemon yellow and navy blue color scheme was obviously designed by your mother-in-law the night she swallowed the absinthe “by mistake.” We are talking not subtle. We are talking about the safety cards actually plastered onto the seat backs in front of you and seats that don’t recline.

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But hell, we’re also talking seats with thicker cushions for your weary ass  than comparable ones on easyJet or Aegean. Not quite JetBlue caliber but hey, this is not America (oh wait, isn’t America the place that gave us this single-ply tissue of an airline?) and frankly these seats are not that bad at all. Dammit, I’m not unhappy!

The flight attendants? Young and pretty and professional. The coffee? Should you want some, it’s by Lavazza. For a small charge but hey, Italian coffee on an Irish plane from Greece to Denmark? Fuck yeah, I’m in. And liking it. Not liking the fragrance trolley that’s being shuttled up and down the aisle with all the calculated abandon of a Rachel Maddow monologue, but hey everybody’s got to sell. Doesn’t mean ya gotta buy.

Although, with the fifty or so bucks I saved over competing fares in my pocket, I just might have.

loju

The author paid $101 for his ticket on Ryanair from SKG to CPH in May.