Let's All Move to Houston
On a recent stop-over in Houston, Texas, I visited a friend and saw how the other half lived. OK, so maybe not quite half get to live like this. But it was nice, and I'm ready to go.
We pulled up to the high rise in the taxi and were greeted by two doormen, one efficiently removing our luggage from the boot, the other opening our door with a friendly, "Hi." Looking around, I saw someone else valet parking a car that had just arrived, and another pulling up a car for someone who was leaving.
Valet parking outside of LA? "Oh, Houston is CRAZY for valet parking," our friend informed us. "It's actually annoying sometimes, especially when you have to wait for your car which is parked 10 feet away." Hard for us to imagine, given the version of parking we deal with in London.
Our friend led us to her apartment (this building does not have flats). Behind us trailed her miniature poodle and a bellman with the bags. Was this building a hotel in a former life? It felt like one, with a grand lobby, 33 floors and a concierge at the desk.
We reached her apartment and it was spacious, elegant, and offered views from every room. The floor was either plush carpeting or marble, and the master bathroom was the size of our London bedroom. Double sinks and a tub for two were a given.
That night we sat overlooking the Houston skyline, eating delicious Mexican food from from El Tiempo. The next morning, we filled up two thermoses with complimentary Starbucks coffee, self-served in a little room off the lobby. Should we have preferred water or a soda, it was also available, as was a wide selection of newspapers and magazines.
Sorry, unlimited Starbucks coffee in the lobby?
We took the poodle, Chloe, for a walk around the property, and our friend pointed a few things out. "That road leads to a park which has a great five-mile loop, and that's the way to the pool." We said hello to a few neighbours, then returned to the apartment to get ready to drive back to the airport. Our friend got ready to start her work-day from her office in the guest room, then hit the pool for a swim around noon, go back to work, and visit her polo pony later that afternoon.
On the flight, we took stock of our London lives. Who cares if Texas is the home of GWB, cowboy hats not worn in a sexy, cool way, and a good does of the more inward-looking American behaviour we prefer to avoid. With complimentary valet parking and Starbucks, I'll happily call it home.
This is not a paid advertisement for The Royalton at River Oaks, although we realise it totally could be.
Valet parking outside of LA? "Oh, Houston is CRAZY for valet parking," our friend informed us. "It's actually annoying sometimes, especially when you have to wait for your car which is parked 10 feet away." Hard for us to imagine, given the version of parking we deal with in London.
Our friend led us to her apartment (this building does not have flats). Behind us trailed her miniature poodle and a bellman with the bags. Was this building a hotel in a former life? It felt like one, with a grand lobby, 33 floors and a concierge at the desk.
We reached her apartment and it was spacious, elegant, and offered views from every room. The floor was either plush carpeting or marble, and the master bathroom was the size of our London bedroom. Double sinks and a tub for two were a given.
That night we sat overlooking the Houston skyline, eating delicious Mexican food from from El Tiempo. The next morning, we filled up two thermoses with complimentary Starbucks coffee, self-served in a little room off the lobby. Should we have preferred water or a soda, it was also available, as was a wide selection of newspapers and magazines.
Sorry, unlimited Starbucks coffee in the lobby?
We took the poodle, Chloe, for a walk around the property, and our friend pointed a few things out. "That road leads to a park which has a great five-mile loop, and that's the way to the pool." We said hello to a few neighbours, then returned to the apartment to get ready to drive back to the airport. Our friend got ready to start her work-day from her office in the guest room, then hit the pool for a swim around noon, go back to work, and visit her polo pony later that afternoon.
On the flight, we took stock of our London lives. Who cares if Texas is the home of GWB, cowboy hats not worn in a sexy, cool way, and a good does of the more inward-looking American behaviour we prefer to avoid. With complimentary valet parking and Starbucks, I'll happily call it home.
This is not a paid advertisement for The Royalton at River Oaks, although we realise it totally could be.
Here Is The Writer : Madame B
Foreign-born Madame B thinks she's a City girl, but mostly just walks our streets checking things out and searching for the best wi-fi hotspots offered by The Cloud. You can spot her typing furiously on her shiny white MacBook, wearing dark sunglasses and drinking a glass of champagne. She's one half of the Shopaholics, which might explain things...
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