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The Oriental Bangkok, Thailand Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn, CA The Peninsula Bangkok, Thailand Anantara Golden Triangle, Chiang Rai, Thailand Hotel Madera The
Melrose Hotel Two
Bunch Palms Ananda-in
the
La
Maison Arabe
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The
Peninsula Chicago
Lollygagging in the Peninsula’s inch-thick terry robe, I dawdle on the creamy slubbed-silk Empire couch. Jaunty armchairs with their widow’s peak hardwood trim and big-checked gold, taupe and cream curtains bumb up the room’s sunny appeal. Looking down at the ladies who lunch breeze into the Mag Mile’s Nieman Marcus, I idly browse the Peninsula magazine envisaging future journeys. Last night, July 3rd, the upper third of the firework’s display at Navy Pier exploded over Michigan Avenue’s splendid architecture.
And just the beginning of the Pen’s amusements. Up top, there’s a pool, spa and outdoor patio. Downstairs, right outside old Singapore—or at least a restaurant that captures its feel—wine-dark trees stretch from black-granite planters overflowing with acid-green vines on an enticing terrace for Singapore Slings. Upstairs, at the much-acclaimed Avenues, chef Graham Elliot Bowles pushes Asian fusion into an avant-garde envelope without leaving too many of us behind. The Lobby is a spirited and delicious spot with all day dining, afternoon teas, chocolate buffets, and live jazz. The Bar’s fine Courvoisier abets the contemplation of its Le Corbusier’s modern lithographs. Women of taste will find the bare essentials at The Peninsula’s gift shop—Haut Chocolat by Vosages. Their dark, dark and darker chocolates are exotically flavored with the likes of chilies, gingers and wasabi. But, buyer beware: this spirited, luscious luxury is powerfully addictive. Come to think of it, so’s The Peninsula Chicago. By Kate Crawford August 2005 LINKS WITH ATTITUDE The
Peninsula Chicago on the web. |
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Speaking
of pillows—and there are lots—they’re covered with gazillion-count
pillowcases. They make a cushiony cocoon if I’d rather watch my movies
dry on the flat screen TV. This phone’s got its own mega gizmos. It
works all the lights, adjusts the temperature, lights up ‘Privacy Please’
outside the front door, sees if my shoes have been shined, checks the time
anywhere in the world and the temperature just outside. There’s speed
dial, voice mail and—three cheers for The Pen—complimentary local and
access calls. Were this not all ready more access to the outside world
than I want, a silent fax machine hides in a desk drawer along side
high-speed Internet access.
When
I finally do go out—for my not-Neiman’s but nearby Filenes’s Bargain
Basement fashion find—coming back is the best part. White-clad and
capped bellhops usher me into the refined, wood-dark space that is the
Peninsula’s ground floor entrance. The rear wall is a back-lit glass
mural in lush, linear bamboo tones. It evokes a cathedral’s quiet,
Chicago’s architectural ancestry and the Peninsula’s own Oriental
lineage.
One stop and
five floors up, the elevator opens onto The Peninsula’s main street, a
wide marble corridor that leads to the lobby’s pièce de résistance—a
mural
encrusted with
copper, silver and gold textured oil paint. Art Nouveau meets Art Deco as
vamps in sultry dresses flow amid Chicago’s great buildings. Glam enough
for a great hotel, while the superb execution by French artist, Gerard
Coltat, keeps it from heading over the top. Woven palm fronds and orchid
flowers provide simple, elegant counterpoints. Annie Leibovitz’s four
black and white "Portraits Peninsula" and two of Bob Keller’s
oils, "Colors and Circles," enliven the elevator foyer. That’s
just the beginning of the Peninsula’s art collection.