American Airlines new “Bistro” service, which now substitutes for the inflight dinner, is nothing more than a limp turkey sandwich in a paper bag with some raw carrots and a small bag of Ruffles potato chips thrown in–a study in disappointment. They don’t even bother to serve it to you; you pick up the paper bag as board the plane.
After a long wait for our checked baggage, we arrived at the Hotel Metropolis exhausted and hungry. The recently renovated building is clean and funky, without being cute. The decor is based on the elements. There is a library where you can get coffee and read the paper on the second floor overlooking the lobby. It’s equiped with classic iMac with internet access, but it wasn’t free.
AJM sits in the lobby of the Hotel Metropolis waiting for a taxi.
Our room, 901, on one of the water-themed floors, is cast in restful tones of periwinkle and lavender. However, the hotel is located alone just on the edge of the “bad” part of town. The view is unattractive and the neighborhood a little scary.
We ate a late dinner at the Indian food restaurant attached to the hotel. The food was tasty, the decor gracefully modern, and the background music jazz. But the service was painfully slow. Because of the two hour time difference, it was midnight our time before we were served, even though we were the only two people there. We ate quickly and fell into bed. Unfortunately, room 901 is right next to the elevator, which creaked and jerked loudly to a stop. It is an old building underneath the new paint and shiny fixtures. The noise kept me awake until I took a sleeping pill.