Every industry has small injustices it hopes you will absorb quietly.
Luxury travel has perfected dozens. This page is where they are
recorded, numbered, and pursued to resolution, which is to say
forever.

To be clear about what this is not: it is not a complaints page.
Complaints are emotional. This is a ledger. Entries are dated, sworn,
and updated as each investigation develops. New grievances are filed as
they are incurred, generally within the hour, occasionally from the
pool.

Grievance No. 001: The
Destination Fee

A fee, charged by the hotel, for being at the hotel. The destination
is the thing I already paid for. I have now asked what it covers at
front desks on three continents and received, in order: “local
experiences,” “amenities,” and once, memorably, “the vibe.” I paid $45
for the vibe. The vibe was fine.

Status: Unresolved. The asking continues in Spain this summer, in
two languages if necessary.

Grievance No. 002: The
Missing Five Hours

Checkout is at 11. Check-in is at 4. Between those two numbers sit
five hours of room that I paid for on one side and you paid for on the
other, and the hotel is holding them, and nobody at any desk will say
where they go. Multiply five hours by every room, every night,
everywhere, and this may be the largest unexamined land grab in the
history of hospitality. I am not saying it is a conspiracy. I am saying
a conspiracy would look exactly like this.

Status: Under audit.

Grievance No. 003:
The Pool Towel Wristband

The towel is free. The wristband that authorizes the towel is issued
at a kiosk. The kiosk closes at four. The pool closes at eight. I have
now spent more of a single Tuesday thinking about this system than the
man who designed it has in his entire life, and I will spend more.

Status: Ongoing surveillance.

Grievance No. 004: The $9
Espresso

It is one euro of coffee wearing eight euros of bathrobe. I
understand the economics. I understand the linen tablecloth is not free.
I order a second one out of spite anyway and charge it to the room,
which is to say, to myself, which is the kind of protest I specialize
in.

Status: Self-inflicted. Recurring.

Grievance No. 005: The
Turndown Chocolate

At 6:40 in the evening, a trained professional enters my room to fold
down a blanket I was not using and leave a chocolate I did not request,
and the hotel’s website lists this under “services.” I have questions
about the blanket. I have no questions about the chocolate. The
chocolate is excellent. That is what worries me. Nothing that good is
free.

Status: Monitoring. Nightly.

Grievance No. 006: The
Wide-Angle Lens

The listing said “sprawling sun-drenched living space.” The lens said
the living room was forty feet long. The living room was a hallway with
a couch and ambitions. Wide-angle photography has done more for vacation
rental bookings than any amenity since wifi, and it is time someone said
so in a ledger.

Status: Photographic evidence being collected. With a normal
lens.

Grievance No. 007:
“Family-Friendly”

A hotel described itself as family-friendly because it owns a high
chair. Singular. One high chair, presumably shared by all the families,
perhaps by reservation. Family-friendly is a kids club with actual
staff, a connecting door that connects, and a restaurant that can
produce plain pasta in under forty minutes. It is not a word you earn by
tolerating children in the lobby.

Status: Under active field testing by three unpaid junior
investigators.

Filing a grievance

Readers may submit grievances through the contact page. Include
receipts where possible. Grievances without receipts will be heard
sympathetically and filed under hearsay. Grievances about this website
should be addressed to the management, who will take your side, because
the management is also married to her.