Fodor's Travel Talk Forums - NYC - The Plaza

One thing that often helps is asking them if they have any weekend specials. Many in NYC do because they are busier during the week with business travellers, and on weekends aren't so fully booked and want to boost their occupancy rate. Then, when they quote you the rate, ask them what that includes (they may throw in breakfast, parking, whatever). Then, ask them if that is their best rate. Also, ask them if they offer any discounts. You would be surprised how many hotels (even high-end) offer discounts for members of certain groups (AAA, AARP, military, government, etc.). I am attaching below a recent New York Times Travel section article reviewing the Plaza and the Waldorf-Astoria, because it may give you an idea of what rate to expect and also gives you one reviewer's opinion of his room. (See the section at the end regarding the writer's own experience in making the reservation and getting the best rate.) Hope this is helpful. Good luck. May 16, 1999 Hotels Larger Than Life By TERRY TRUCCO At two of New York's grand hotels, the Plaza and the Waldorf, what do you get for $300 (more or less)? Coffered ceilings, vintage murals and plenty of marble, for a start Those glorious words "grand hotel" call to mind another era, more gracious and less hurried than our own, and surroundings, constructed at least decades ago, of heroic scale and a certain sumptuousness. The lobby should be enormous and shamelessly decorative, with crystal chandeliers suspended from an impossibly high ceiling and plenty of fat sofas for watching a parade of visitors from around the world. The surfaces that aren't gilded are covered with marble or carved wood. Rooms are spacious, reminiscent of a time when people chose to live in hotels. And the uniformed staff, never far from sight, can produce a heavy silver pot of coffee or a full-dress dinner in a twinkling. Keeping in step with the times can be difficult for an old hotel, however, and not every grande dame is as grande as it once was. Recently I decided to see how two of Manhattan's oldest and grandest are faring. I chose the Plaza, which opened in 1907, and the Waldorf-Astoria, which opened at its current, second location in 1931, and booked a room at the lower end of the range for each hotel -- $325 for a double room at the Plaza (including Continental breakfast) and $309 for a suite at the Waldorf. The Plaza It's almost impossible to imagine the Plaza without the Palm Court, the flamboyant lobby tearoom that opened when Theodore Roosevelt was President. On a late Saturday night during my stay, I went downstairs for dessert. Though I had a magazine, the tables are deliberately arranged for people-watching, and the floor show was amusing. As waiters hovered around two Diana Vreeland look-alikes, a wizened violinist went from table to table playing requests -- a little Gershwin here, some Rodgers & Hammerstein there. My apple cake was so-so, but the coffee was excellent, and the wedding cake of a room sparkled. As the music soared, I imagined myself in a lacy white gown and a huge cartwheel hat, sipping Champagne around 1910. The Plaza is a curiosity as grand New York hotels go. One moment you're whisked into a fantasy past by the architecture and ambience. The next, you can feel as if you're in an airport, albeit one lighted by chandeliers. When I checked in that afternoon, the hotel seemed frenetic and was so crowded I had to fight my way to the elevator. Throngs of conventioneers, guests and gawkers milled about in the lobbies and halls, snapping pictures and yelling into cell phones. A long line led to the women's rest room. And since there's no place to sit in the lobbies or hallways, the weariest, or boldest, had plopped themselves on a carpeted staircase. Yet whatever mood it happens to beam your way, the 807-room Plaza is an impressive piece of real estate, with a blue-chip location overlooking Fifth Avenue and Central Park. From the outside, the 18-story French Renaissance limestone building looks like a chateau. (The hotel became a National Historic Landmark in 1986.) And the interior will dazzle anyone who admires coffered ceilings, walls and walls of exquisite white marble and gilding on almost everything. Parts of the Plaza have been renovated over the past few years, and the hotel, operated by Fairmont Hotel Management, looks good. My favorite addition is the elegant lobby carpeting in muted blues that replaced the flashy blood-red and gold carpets. The Everett Shinn murals of Central Park in the clubby, and very popular, Oak Bar are as spectacular as ever. The impish portrait of Eloise, the Plaza's perennially 6-year-old guest, always draws a small crowd not far from the candy shop. And the two-year-old fitness center on the 17th floor, small but smartly equipped with cardio machines and weight equipment, is wittily adorned with big gold-framed mirrors. Guests can use it free of charge. A minor annoyance is the hotel's tireless self-promotion. Almost every piece of literature I saw includes the litany of former guests (Mark Twain, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Marlene Dietrich and Frank Lloyd Wright, to name a few). And should you wish to take home a piece of the Plaza, the gift shop, taking a cue from neighbors like Planet Hollywood, brims to the rafters with monogrammed souvenirs -- sheets, towels, golf shirts, baby clothes, Christmas tree ornaments. I was happy to retreat to my "classic room," as the reservation agent described it. Room 1057 was quiet and airy but of moderate size, with a king-size bed, a comfortable club chair with matching ottoman and a sleek wooden desk; the fax machine was hidden discreetly in a drawer. The large picture window, which unfortunately overlooked a boring glass building on 58th Street, was framed by graceful mint-green curtains that matched the bedspread. Everything looked clean and fresh; the moldings were as crisp as pleats, and the white paint on the woodwork looked like fresh cream. The crystal chandelier was so pretty I almost left it on all night. Although the bathroom was extremely small, it looked new and stylish, with black and white floor tiles and immaculate white tiles marching up the walls. A beautifully framed mirror hung above the pedestal sink. And the shower felt like a water cannon. Service veered between competence and indifference for the most part. I had to call to have my bed turned down. And my Sunday morning wake-up call was appalling -- it came two hours early, at 7 A.M. instead of 9. But my room service breakfast arrived promptly. Artfully arranged on a pale pink tablecloth sat a silver basket filled with toast and brioche, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice in a silver, ice-filled cooler, a big pot of coffee, and corned beef hash with a very firm poached egg, as I requested. The breakfast was expensive: the bill was $47.92, though I paid only $9.47 after the hotel deducted the cost of the continental breakfast for two that was included in the room rate. But it was delicious, and the perfect accompaniment to an old black-and-white Barbara Stanwyck movie I watched, wrapped in my big white hotel bathrobe. I lingered past check-out time and stayed until the final credits rolled. The Waldorf-Astoria s the Waldorf-Astoria a hotel or a city? As I roamed through acres of thickly carpeted lobby, nearly the entire length of a block, I realized you could hole up in this 42-story building for days and never do the same thing twice. The hotel has four restaurants, six bars and a mall of boutiques, where you can shop for antiques, rare books, cell phones or sweatshirts. You can go blond at Kenneth's Hair Salon, work out all day in the gym, or try to count the tiles of the recently restored allegorical mosaic floor in the Park Avenue lobby. (There are 148,000.) Then you can sink into a sofa in the magnificent main lobby and gaze up -- way up -- at the reliefs of stags and naiads frolicking on the gilded ceiling. There's nothing cozy about the Waldorf, but it's comfortable, and it certainly is grand. It's so big, in fact, it's actually two hotels in one -- the 1,120-room Waldorf-Astoria and the more plush 118-room Waldorf Towers, where every President has stayed since Herbert Hoover. But its size and scale mean you rarely feel crowded, even when a convention spills out of a ballroom or guests with big suitcases pile into the lobby. And because nearly every inch of its vast public space is decorative, there's usually an amusing detail, color or shape to hold your attention. To walk into the main lobby in the center of the hotel is to step into another sphere; the people look familiar enough, dressed in the usual mix of sweatshirts and business suits. But the backdrop is the urbane Art Deco world of Fred and Ginger. And the details are beautifully maintained -- upholstered side chairs that look like big seashells, massive square black marble columns placed with perfect symmetry, and big vases of potpourri on the square, gilt-edged coffee tables. The Park Avenue lobby is almost as big and just as breathtaking, adorned with allegorical murals by the French artist Louis Rigal, a quartet of enormous silver urns guarding the entries and what must be one of the biggest crystal chandeliers in town. The centerpiece is the hand-painted, and rather battered, Steinway grand Cole Porter used when he lived at the Waldorf Towers. And there are tables for cocktails or afternoon tea. I visited the 19th-floor fitness center in the early evening. It is attractive and well equipped, with plenty of cardio and weight machines and a staff of trainers. But it's costly: $14.70 for 24 hours or $24 for an entire stay. I was happy to return to the lobbies, which seemed endlessly entertaining. Big portraits of Conrad Hilton, who bought the hotel in 1971, and former managers hang in the wood-paneled corridors, as if in a private club. And there are places to sit in most nooks and crannies; an older man in a tuxedo snored contentedly in a chair near the magazine shop. I finished the evening with a very strong Cosmopolitan at Peacock Alley, the cocktail lounge in the lobby. A banquet had just ended, and people in evening clothes strode by. After the Art Deco downstairs, my room, Suite 13V on the 13th floor, seemed rather plain. Its two spacious rooms reminded me of pictures I had seen of the Eisenhower White House. But it was huge, and very comfortable. The walls were pale pink, the furniture traditional -- nice, timeless wood pieces and upholstered chairs that could have been purchased as easily in 1958 as 1998. I loved the graceful demilune tables that flanked the front doors and the classic ceiling moldings in the sitting room. Through the window overlooking 49th Street and Lexington Avenue, I could see the Chrysler Building's pointy tower. The sitting room wasn't overly polished -- an enormous fax machine sat on the marble-topped desk, and an old switch plate was covered over with pink wallpaper. But it felt homey, like an old Park Avenue apartment. In the large bedroom, twin ottomans stood at the end of the king-size bed, the perfect place to toss a white hotel bathrobe at the end of the day. A pair of Louis XV style chairs were near the television armoire. And though the white mini-refrigerator didn't fit the décor, there was a coffee maker on top. The only small area was the bathroom, a windowless rectangle with big, creamy marble tiles covering the floor and walls. There was a scale under the sink. But the room was lighted only by a dim fluorescent sconce above the medicine cabinet, and it was too dark to read in the bathtub. My $40.38 room-service breakfast arrived promptly and politely with a newspaper, and was nicely presented: toast in a silver basket, jam in a silver caddy, fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice in a silver cooler, a big pot of coffee and corned beef hash and two poached eggs on white Rosenthal china. It was good, although the eggs weren't as firm as I'd requested, and a teaspoon, embossed with the Waldorf logo, was dirty. I stayed as long as I could, then paid a parting visit to the big bronze clock in the main lobby. Built in 1893 for the Chicago World's Fair, it is adorned with small sculptures of winged eagles, the Statue of Liberty, and reliefs of seven famous Americans and Queen Victoria. The clock is massive, historic, amusing and a bit eccentric, not unlike the Waldorf-Astoria. From Beverly to Benjamin By TERRY TRUCCO New York's hotels are full these days, but like air fares, hotel rates can change from day to day. I reserved my rooms at both the Plaza and the Waldorf about two weeks before my stay. The lowest-priced room I could get at The Plaza was small -- just 225 square feet -- with a queen-size bed facing a courtyard for $380. That seemed expensive, so I called back several days before my arrival and asked if there was anything cheaper. Voilà: I was offered a 290-square-foot room on the courtyard with two double beds for $325, including Continental breakfast. Since I was on a roll, I decided to see if I could do even better when I checked in. After feverish work at the computer, the reservations clerk smiled broadly. The room she gave me -- 290 square feet with a king-size bed overlooking the street -- was exactly what I'd requested when I first made my reservation. I had no such luck at the Waldorf, where the price for my suite stayed firm at $309; however, I got a suite for less than my room at the Plaza. And I learned that had I stayed on a weekend, I would have paid $299. The Waldorf-Astoria, 301 Park Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10022; (212) 355-3000 or (800) 925-3673, fax (212) 872-7272. Double rooms in the Waldorf-Astoria from $245, suites from $275; double rooms in the Waldorf Towers from $375, suites from $635. The Plaza, Fifth Avenue at Central Park South, New York, N.Y. 10019; (212) 759-3000 or (800) 759-3000, fax (212) 546-5324. Double rooms from $295, suites from $650.