A Night at the Fairmont Royal York (Or “I’m a Rock Star. In Canada. And, yes, that totally counts.”)
If you read my blog regularly, maybe you’ve noticed I am not one of those bloggers.
Because, seriously, you guys, if I were one of those bloggers, do you think I’d opt to sit on a bus for twelve hours?
This is clearly the action of a woman who foots her own travel bill.
And the action of a woman who very accurately matches the Albert Einstein definition of insanity.
Also, if you read my blog regularly or irregularly or not-really-at-all-but-you’re-doing-it-today, may I remind you to go vote for my blog for a Bloggie for the Best Travel Weblog. YES, I AM STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS. AND I WILL CONTINUE TO TALK ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU ALL GO VOTE FOR ME AND MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST GIRL EVER, AND I BUY YOU ALL UNICORNS, AND WE DANCE AROUND RAINBOWS TOGETHER!!!
Or until you all hate me, and I end up drinking in my shower.
Not like that would be a first.
Where was I, again?Oh, yes, about The Free Stuff.
Mind you, I do not feel that accepting The Free Stuff would affect my journalistic integrity.
I mean, you’ve read my blog, right?
Whatever “journalistic integrity” is, I assure you, I don’t have it.
The thing is to get The Free Stuff, you have to actually ask The People Who Give The Free Stuff to give it to you.
This is the funny thing about The People.
They usually won’t just email you and say, “Hey, want some Free Stuff?”
Okay, so, sometimes, they do.
I did get this super adorable pair of Tieks shoes.
Which are perfect for traveling. But not so perfect for Buffalo, as it’s been snowing since October, so I’ve only been able to wear them once. But I promise to wear them and tell you all about them. You know, once I no longer have to risk frostbite to do so.
And I’ve gotten more than one offer for a free travel iron. Because, apparently, The People think I look like a hot mess while I travel.
The People may have a point.Usually, in order to get The Free Stuff, you have to do a lot of researching and emailing and networking and talking to The People and going to conferences with The People and then talking to more of The People.
And, well, I’ve been busy.
You know, working and moving home and watching screaming goat videos.
So it wasn’t until last weekend that I got my very first taste of what it feels like to be a travel blogger who wields her travel blogger powers for good.
Or at least for free hotel rooms.
And, let’s just say, you guys, I could totally get used to this.
You see, last Saturday I went up to Toronto to meet up with some other fine lady travel bloggers.
And, in case you’re wondering, I did totally take the bus there.After our afternoon spent shoving kimchi and booze into our faces, we spent the evening in a suite at the Fairmount Royal York, which was finagled for us by the lovely Pam.
As the name suggests the Fairmont Royal York is very regal.
The lobby was full of ornate chandeliers and huge flower arrangements and the type of people who look like they might actually iron their clothing while they are on vacation.
There was even a big book in the lobby with autographs from some of the “Guests of the Distinction,” which included royalty and various other celebrities.
Or as I referred to it “Guests Who Probably Didn’t Have to Take the Bus Here. And If They Did It Was Probably Some Kind of Crazy Gold-Plated, Hovercraft Bus.”The fanciness didn’t stop at the lobby, of course. Our suite was one big room full of super swanky.
Our window had a view of CN Tower.
The television took up half of the wall.
And the bathroom was stocked with cushy bathrobes and slippers and mini-bottles of fancy French-named toiletries.
There was even a shoe mitten! I mean, you know a place is fancy when there is a mitten for your shoes!But more impressive than the view and the massive TV and the shoe mitten, was the customer service.
Yes, I said more impressive than the shoe mitten.
And I bet you didn’t think stuff could get much more impressive than a shoe mitten!
Because I know I certainly didn’t!
Seconds after we stepped into our room, someone from the front desk called us to ask us if we were satisfied with our suite.
Like, what were we going to say to that?
“Oh, no, can you give us a different free suite. This one is way too free. And we want a TV that takes up the whole wall, not just half of it. Sheez.”
Then not five minutes later, room service arrived bearing a cart full of cheese plates and fresh fruit and wine.
There was even a handwritten note wishing us all a happy stay.
Except my rock band was a bunch of lady bloggers.
So, you know, instead of setting the carpet on fire and throwing the couch out the window, we spent the evening devouring cheese plates and having heated discussions over how we should hashtag our tweets.
I am not even kidding you.When’s the last time a hotel made you feel like a rock star?