Roadtripping

A complaint about resort fees

When I posted on this blog a few days ago my list of what I dislike about hotels, with resort fees at the top of the list, I didn't know I was being charged resort fees that very day. But it is an excellent example of why I think they're dishonest.

I got the hotel by making a $120-a-night bid on Priceline for a room in a hotel rated at least 3 1/2 stars in either Mt. Pleasant or downtown Charleston, S.C. The Charleston Harbor Resort & Marina in Mt. Pleasant accepted my bid.

Priceline gave me a to-the-penny breakdown of what taxes and fees would be, but it didn't say whether the hotel charges a resort fee. No one at the hotel told me either, although it was in the fine print of the paperwork I signed when I checked in -- I missed it amid the disclaimers about deposits, thefts, liability, smoking and the rest of the usual boilerplate, and I'll take responsibility for not reading all the fine print. The hotel clerk said he was making an imprint of my credit card and that the hotel would put a hold on $50 to cover "any incidental fees," but he didn't say what he must have known -- that it would include $36 in resort fees. I didn't know until the morning I checked out, when my statement slid under the door showed a $12-a-night resort fee.

Resort fee aside, I liked the hotel and would stay there again. My room was pleasant and comfortable, the hotel was quiet, the public rooms were attractive, and the location -- six miles from the noise and bustle of downtown Charleston -- was convenient.

I liked having free Wi-Fi in my room and free self-parking. Although I didn't use the services, I also appreciated that the hotel provided trolley service to the historic downtown area and access to an off-property gym. But it definitely put a damper on my good feelings when I learned I was paying a $12-a-day fee for those services. I think it's dishonest to draw a line around certain hotel services and say that they're not covered by the room rate but by an extra, mandatory fee.  Baloney! If it's mandatory, it should be included in the basic room rate. But this is an increasingly common practice, especially by higher-end hotels.

And it's worse when the travel agency that books the room -- in this case Priceline -- doesn't reveal the fee to the client. 

Christopher Elliott, who writes the syndicated Travel Troubleshooter column that runs in the Miami Herald Travel section, reports that the Federal Trade Commission has received complaints about this practice and is investigating.

But there's also a bit of good news. When I looked at prices on Hotwire, a Priceline competitor that in the past did not reveal resort fees, it alerted me that particular hotels I was interested in charged a resort fee and gave an approximate amount.

So what am I going to do? Next time I want to use one of the "opaque" sites to get a discounted rate on a hotel room, I'll vote with my wallet and use the site that is honest about resort fees. I'll book with Hotwire. 

Seven habits of hotels

I’m in my third hotel on this road trip, and my lodgings have reminded me what I dislike the most about hotels:

 1. Mandatory resort fees. If I don’t have a choice about paying for newspapers, coffee machines, and whatever else these fees finance, then be honest and include it in the room rate. Don’t tack it on later, after you’ve enticed me to book a room at a deceptively low rate.

2. Wi-Fi that is so weak or has such inadequate bandwidth that it’s essentially unusable (two of the hotels on this trip, plus the third some of the time).

3. Hotels that charge for bad Wi-Fi (see No. 2).

4. Shower curtain rods that bow out to give the illusion of a bigger shower, hung with curtains that aren’t long enough to stretch from end to end. Result: lots of water on the floor.

5. Rooms that lack enough light to read by, and especially rooms that are so dim that I can’t read in bed.

6. Rooms that don’t have enough electrical outlets to charge my electronics.

7. Mini-bars that automatically charge me for a product plus a “re-stocking fee” when all I’ve done is open the door to see what’s in there.

Gambling on a hotel-room view

I was arriving late -- 10 p.m. -- at my Charleston hotel, and I wondered what kinds of rooms would be unassigned at that hour. I had booked the room for three nights through Priceline, which meant I was probably paying less than most people staying there, and the odds that I would get a waterfront room were low (I did not identify myself as a travel writer -- I rarely do).  But you never know. Sometimes if occupancy is low, a hotel will assign people to its better rooms just for the PR value. And sometimes if occupancy is high, a great room is all that's left by 10 p.m. It's happened. But that was not to be.  At the front desk, as he handed me my key, the clerk told me the hotel was full. I went back to my car to get my suitcase, looked up at wall of windows, and figured I probably had a parking lot view. Which, as it turned out, I do. But it wasn't til morning that I could see the whole picture. Fenced in directly below my window is the maintenance area -- garbage bins, spare propane units and a tool shed. But beyond, if I stand on my toes and look out at just the right angle, just over the treetops, I can see a sliver of water in the harbor. 

Camping on a city's edge

Roadtrippers looking for a break on big-city hotel prices, here’s an option for you: camping. LivingOnTheCheap.com points out that many big cities are only a short distance from county or state parks that have camp sites – often with showers. Read the full article here.

 

Road trip stop: Sebring

My road trip has taken me to Sebring where I’m learning that August is not the best time to vacation here. It’s hot and quiet, and some of the town’s attractions are closed for the month. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve had a busy day. The Smart Car and I have been to Sebring International Raceway (OK, yes, I did punch the accelerator on an empty access road – couldn’t help myself), Sebring’s historic downtown, and the City Pier. I've been wine-tasting. Later this evening, I’ll go back downtown for a Destination Downtown event. But the monthly Friday night art walk is cancelled in August, the art museum is between shows with nothing on display, the restaurant where I’d planned to have dinner tonight is closed for the month, and several downtown shops are on vacation.

I’m at the Kenilworth Lodge, a grand old hotel (1916) that has been updated with Wi-Fi throughout, premium movie channels, air-conditioning, a pub and wine bar, and high-tech electronic door locks. But it’s one of the old-fashioned amenities that is calling to me: the wide verandah with rocking chairs. As soon as it gets just a little bit cooler, I’ll be heading for one of those rocking chairs. 

 

Legendary Paris hotel to close for renovations

Mon dieu! The Paris Ritz has closed for renovations that are expected to take two years. It is the first time in its 114 years that the legendary hotel has closed. But it is not unheard of for luxury hotels to shut down while undergoing extensive renovations. In Los Angeles, for example, both the Beverly Hills Hotel and the Hotel Bel-Air closed for similar long periods while being overhauled. Fodor’s has details about the Ritz here.

Photo credit: ERIC PIERMONT/AFP/GettyImages

Staycations: What to do in South Florida

If you’re thinking that you’re going to spend at least part of your vacation at home this year, today's Travel section is for you. Fifty-one weeks a year, we tell you about getting out of town. Today, our staycation issue tells you what to do if you vacation at home. In today’s Miami Herald, this article looks at some of South Florida’s new hotels. For this story, my colleagues and I took nine tours that will introduce you to facets of the area that you may not be familiar with. And this one tells you about touring the Keys by pedal and paddle. Just remember this: Once the tourists go home and leave the hurricane season’s rain, heat and humidity to us – starting in just a couple weeks – prices for hotels, restaurants, tours and attractions tend to drop. Take advantage!

 

Beverly Hills Hotel: Celebrating its first 100 years

Here’s a hotel that probably isn’t on many road-trip itineraries: The Beverly Hills Hotel (although it once had stables for guests’ horses). The Southern California hotel celebrates its 100^th anniversary on Saturday. It was built at a cost of $500,000 and opened two years before Beverly Hills incorporated as a city. Rooms here start at $500 a night, more for the elegant bungalows where Elizabeth Taylor honeymooned, Marilyn Monroe reportedly holed up with Yves Montand, and Howard Hughes hid. Dinner at the Polo Lounge – where Marlene Dietrich eventually convinced management to allow women to wear slacks – runs $18 for a bowl of clam chowder or a wedge salad, and $55 for ribeye (roasted mushrooms and whipped potatoes included). But if you’re in the neighborhood, stop in for one of the specialty drinks ($17) that the Polo Lounge created for the occasion. Consider it a taste of history. Read the full story here.

 

Road Trip: Margaritaville on Pensacola Beach

I’m in Pensacola Beach, sitting on my enormous bed and watching the Gulf of Mexico waves pound the sand.  It’s early Monday morning and there’s a lone woman doing stretching exercises at the tide line and letting the fading ripples of the waves wash her feet. If there’s noise, I can’t hear it above the roar of the ocean coming through the open door to my balcony.

I’m staying at Margaritaville, Jimmy Buffett’s hotel, which opened not quite two years ago.  I wanted a view of the water, and when I made my online reservations (about 30 minutes before I got to the hotel, after I'd surveyed the other hotels on this resort strip), I settled for a bayfront room for $149. But Sunday is a quiet night, and the front desk clerk upgraded me to an ocean front room, $199 if I had reserved it online. (The hotel staff doesn’t know that I’m a travel writer, and I’ve set up this post to go live after I’ve checked out.)

I love the room. It’s big and airy with kind of a Key West décor – a small mural of the ocean, Bahamas shutters, faux-plank flooring like a deck, seashell light fixtures and other beach items. It’s got a small refrigerator, robes, a coffeemaker, free Wi-Fi, enough outlets to plug in all my gadgets for recharging at once, and a newspaper at my door this morning.

Last night I had a crabcake sandwich at the Frank and Lola Love Pensacola Café off the lobby. It was almost 10 p.m., and the hostess hesitated when I asked if the restaurant was still serving, but she was happy to seat me at the bar and handed me the menu. I ended up chatting with a young couple on a meandering trip back home from Biloxi to north Georgia who, like me, had decided on an impulse to stay here.

Back in my room, I stood on the balcony and stared into the dark, the ripples of white foam barely distinguishable.  I love the sound of waves crashing on the beach and thought about leaving my balcony door open, but the sound isn’t gentle – it’s a roar that would keep me awake.

Now it’s check-out time and I’m tempted to condense my sightseeing plans and stay another night – the ocean is mesmerizing – but Alabama calls.

 

Road trip: Taking a chance there's no room at the inn

Traveling north on U.S. 27 after dark on Friday, I still had the energy for a couple hours of driving, plus a desire to make it as close to Apalachicola as I could before stopping for the night.

But I was on a stretch of road where I had never been before -- north of Tampa Bay, more than 100 miles short of Apalachicola. I passed towns seemingly too small to have hotels, and with no street lights, only a vague sense of what I was passing. I just knew that the sparse buildings along the road weren't lit up, so they weren't commercial establishments. That's not a good sign when you're looking for a place to stay for the night. And I suspected more of the same was all that lay ahead.

My plan was to drive late, then find lodging in some moderately priced chain motel. Since I'd be getting on the road again early, there was no sense spending a lot of money on even semi-luxury. I'd save that for another night -- Biloxi maybe, New Orleans for sure.

This is a gamble I often take on road trips: not making a hotel reservation in advance. I like to stay flexible. The worst that could happen? I'd have to drive all the way into a bigger city -- in this case,n probably Tallahassee -- that has plenty of hotel rooms, but would be well out of my way. On rare occasion, I've lost that gamble, meaning I had to settle for a hotel that was too expensive, too rundown, or far away enough to keep me up, driving past my bedtime. Once in Alaska, the Midnight Sun caused me to lose track of time and I ended up sleeping in a room over a gas station -- and paying way too much for that privilege.

But up ahead on U.S. 27 on Friday, I saw lights indicating the next small town was larger than the ones I had been passing. I saw a car dealership and a Sears, which I took as a sign this town was big enough for a motel or two. And sure enough, up ahead was a Best Western with a vacancy -- plus an in-room mini-fridge, free Wi-Fi, free continental breakfast and an AAA discount. Sold!