Jennifer Beck Jennifer Beck

The Embassy Suites St. Louis

Get A Room! Jennifer Beck reviews the Embassy Suites in St. Louis!

As much as I have raved about the Cheshire in St. Louis, a reader asked me to check out the Embassy Suites. At first, I turned up my nose. Who wants to go to a hotel that’s like all the rest? But the next time I was in town for an XFL game, I decided to give it a try.

And I have to say, my readers are brilliant.

Parking downtown is a challenge on a good day, and with a professional football game playing right next door, they are even worse. But the valets at the Embassy Suites operated like a team of champions. They were always communicating, strategizing and maneuvering to tackle demand. The service was an extra charge, but well worth it. I never felt my car was out of my reach. I even had Erin use the service when she met me for dinner that night, and the guys comp’ed her time. 

Thanks guys!

Again, the front desk staff was very efficient-almost an extension of the valet team although you could tell they acknowledged the coach was out there parking cars. Which I suppose isn’t the worst thing that could happen, but I imagine this would be a little confusing for people who do not speak English as their first language or have other communication challenges. That being said, guests were spaced very well with families and travelers with pets kept apart from others staying at the hotel. I find that always makes for a better experience. I love dogs and babies, I’m just not crazy about hearing them in the middle of the night unless they are mine.

Apart from the common areas, the hotel itself is very quiet. The room was open and well-organized. The sleeping area was separated from the sitting/TV and the kitchen areas. The layout gave some semblance of order to what can often be a chaotic time for any traveler.

The dining area was spacious and clean with a menu that could accommodate anyone’s taste. And even though the hotel’s amenities catered to families, I could see the efforts made to consider adults as well. Take their happy hour receptions  which served snacks and soft drinks for families with children, but also had an open bar manned by a bartender who was happy to mix your favorite cocktail or serve you a glass of today’s punch of the day.

Shout out to that girl! She was a pro!

The continental breakfast was also one of the best I have ever seen. The buffet took up two separate rooms and had just about anything you could want for breakfast on the road. The dining area was spacious enough to accommodate hungry guests, but many filled their trays and took them up to their rooms. And in spite of this, I noticed the housekeeping staff didn’t leave a single tray outside a room for more than a few minutes. They were magical.

The price was reasonable given the location and the going rates of other hotels nearby. And having a hotel room right next door to the arena was so advantageous!. Located within walking distance of much of downtown STL, it was easy to walk to all of my favorite restaurants and hangouts. Over and over, I found the hotel was the perfect place to act as base for my weekend getaway

My takeaway: Come for the parking, stay for the breakfast.

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Jennifer Beck Jennifer Beck

The Moonrise Hotel-St. Louis

Jennifer Beck reviews the Moonrise Hotel in St. Louis. Read Get a Room!

Check out the first impressions here! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Js7GqF_ipLU

With so many positive experiences at the hotels I’ve reviewed, I am commonly asked if there has ever been one that fails to rise to the occasion. The answer is yes, but not too many. The ones that do usually blow out because they lose their identity. That seems to be the case with the Moonrise Hotel in St. Louis, but you be the judge.

Located on the Delmar Loop in the heart of many of the city’s colleges, the Moonrise Hotel is a glowing jewel of neon.  And that, my friends, is the last place the hotel shines. 

Parking is poorly marked, making it almost impossible not to rely on the valet services. Which brings the question of how you access them? After you check in.  Like many businesses on the Loop, parking meters and tow-away zones are more prevalent than available spaces and the miniscule parking lot next to the building is hardly a solution for incoming guests.  So you are left in the precarious position of abandoning your car and praying it will neither be hit nor towed until you check in and cross that hurdle.

That’s not the way I like to start a trip.

Inside, visitors find a modern lobby, more neon and seating areas expertly decorated with funky space toys and NASA memorabilia. Unfortunately, the private experience is a big letdown. The front desk staff who checked us in were apathetic and disinterested to a level that almost felt personal.

Here’s a riddle: how many front desk staff does it take to check you in? The answer at the Moonrise Hotel? Two, and only after they have done literally everything else they can think of while you wait in line. The two chuckleheads working the desk when we arrived chatted with each other, checked vending supplies, looked at things on their phones, and checked on their upcoming their work schedules before waiting on the person in line ahead of us. 

With his little dog squirming in his arms, the gentleman told us he was waiting to get another room key so he could take the dog for a walk. Unfortunately, the dog’s bladder wasn’t large enough to accommodate the front desk’s ineptitude and he eventually left the line. Even that wasn’t enough to prod them back to work.  

Again, not the kind of treatment I would expect from a boutique hotel-or a Motel 6, for that matter.

To my relief, the valet and early morning front desk staff were much better. Maybe, the hotel manager is aware his night staff suck and deliberately schedules them for nights?  If that is the case, I recommend he or she relocate those workers to the basement and spare the rest of us the frustration as well.

Like the check-in experience, the sleeping accommodations were disappointing. For a boutique hotel-and any hotel in general, the beds were terrible! The mattresses are the hard-spring coil variety that are uncomfortable and unyielding-certainly not worth the cost of the room. While we checked in around six, well after housekeeping had presumably finished for the day, the overall cleanliness of the room could only be a generous meh. Like most other background functions, it was half-assed at best. Take the mysterious blue-stain sprayed above the bed and it’s slightly darker buddy spattered behind the toilet. What was up with that?

When staying at a hotel, I try to be understanding. I’m not high-maintenance, don’t consider myself a diva.  I understand that the employees that work there are commonly paid far less than the service they are expected to give on any given day.  I’m okay with that.

That being said, I don’t like to be reminded of the prevalence of communicable diseases. And the last thing I want to do when staying at a hotel is play Name That Stain on my dime. Gross!

I also suspect the hotel’s designers continued the space-theme when it came to the insulation between room walls-or the lack of it.  The audible ambient noise can only be explained by a total absence of any sound-dampening material or a speaker-system.  Every single sound generated in the hallway, elevator and nearby rooms transmits straight to yours.  You can hear the elevator traveling past your floor. You can hear other guests flip on room lights and shut their bathroom doors.

I am hearing-impaired and rarely find this to be a problem in any environment, but guests with sensory issues or PTSD may find the spontaneous sounds and vibrations triggering. The noise level is far more than one would expect from a conventional hotel.

A little past ten in the evening, I overheard a hotel guest on my floor call the front desk to complain. Around two in the morning, another guest made a similar call.  Both times, the front desk informed the callers they would have security dispatched. No one came the second time. I’m not sure if that is an issue with the front desk staff or security, but as I was unable to sleep anyway, I spent some time thinking about it.

Where the hotel part of the hotel seems to less important to the Moonrise than cute toys and neon, the same cannot be said for the rooftop bar and restaurant. Both deliver everything you would expect from the city’s finer venues.  The waitstaff was attentive and accommodating. The food and libations were terrific. It’s just a shame they couldn’t give you a blanket and let you sleep at a booth.

The overall cost of the room was a little pricey, but not outlandish given the location and the relative isolation as the only hotel on the loop.  That being said, it’s wasteful to pay for extras that don’t contribute to your accommodation experience. 

My takeaway: be sure to hit up the restaurant and bar, but stay overnight somewhere else.

Seriously, anywhere else.

Do you have a hotel or inn you think I should review? Let me know on Facebook, Instagram or shoot me an email at toilandtroublemediagroup@gmail.com

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Jennifer Beck Jennifer Beck

The Angad Arts Hotel-St. Louis

The Angard Arts Hotel in St. Louis, MO

Check it out here! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XT0Ld5HsVzQ

Iconic modern art is bold, creative and innovative-true to the artist’s vision. This same description is evident of St Louis’ Angad Arts Hotel. Located next to the St. Louis Symphony, the Angad Arts Hotel perfectly complements the adjacent theaters and halls.

Even the exterior of the hotel makes an artistic statement. It’s classic architectural features are highlighted by whimsical cutouts and sculptures. The exterior fire escape is decorated with large climbing figures in varying stages of ascent. A precarious ‘tower’ of luggage teetering towards collapse sits by the entrance.  Both of these draw the eye before the hotel sign itself. That is subtly mounted on a less prominent corner of the building, almost like the artist’s signature on a painting.

Like great art, visiting the hotel is a challenging experience. There is a learning curve for first-time guests. The main entrance opens to the ground floor of the hotel, boasting a large rotating art exhibit, a couple boutique shops and a restaurant serving breakfasts is closed after the meal’s traditional hours. A pair of elevators are located opposite the exhibit and down the hall adjacent to the boutiques.

Readers may notice the absence of the front desk in my description. This is not an oversight. It’s not there.

No big deal, I hear you say. I did mention the elevators, didn’t I? Well, those weren’t as accommodating as you would think. The elevators by the door had a control panel that had alarm buttons clearly marked, but no noticeable call button. The elevators around the corner were of even less use. Calling the elevator was possible, but it was only usable with a key card one would presumably be issued upon check-in.

I arrived at the hotel after a long day at my desk, later in the evening. In my arms I carried my luggage, briefcase and purse, as well as a box filled with care-package items for Erin. A seasoned traveler, my plan was simple-to check in, drop off my things, and meet up with my daughter for a late meal. It never occurred to me that it all hinged on that first step.

The security and aesthetics were nice features and ones I was sure I would enjoy during my stay, if I made it that far. I bumped around between the two, struggling with my bags and packages. I looked around for signs-clues of what was expected of me and actual signs. But the more I looked, the less clear it became. There was no stairway entrance. Not that I would have been excited to pull my carry-on and other items up flights anyway, but the designers appeared to have made that decision for me in advance. And the more I examined the elevator control panel, the more prohibitive it appeared. With the only evident button emblazoned with the image of a fire fighter’s helmet, I really didn’t want to push that. Nor could I image the hotelier would appreciate it either.  

About fifteen minutes into my puzzle an older couple appeared. Bags in hand, they looked as experienced with the traditional hotel registration process as me.  We greeted each other with a quiet smile and went about our business. They strolled in search of the front desk and I causally watched. This wasn’t an exam, and I’m not too proud to look over someone else’s shoulder.

No luck, it was clear they were as lost as me.

At first, we walked around each other, attempting to solve the riddle without signaling to the other our difficulty. After about ten minutes, we threw shyness aside and collaborated to solve what could only be described as the most unexpected reverse-escape room imagined. In a rare moment in the history of man, the gentlemen tapped out and called the hotel to ask for directions. In response he was asked which direction he was coming from.

“The first floor,” he answered.

“Go to the front desk,” the operator answered.

Why didn’t we think of that?

With the hour getting later, one of us grew frustrated enough to consider pushing the elevator alarm button on the control panel but pressed the space above it instead. The doors opened. Brilliant. The elevator was limited to the option of going to one floor-the forth floor, if I remember correctly. But it was fine with us. It opened to the hospitality floor with another restaurant, seating areas and the illusive front desk. The woman and I stepped quickly to register, as if the desk might disappear soon and we would have to repeat the whole process.

“Carl? Are you coming?” the woman called to her companion.

But he had dropped his bag and was walking determinedly to the opposite side of the room-one with a prominent stairway leading to a well-labeled bar upstairs. “I’ll meet you when you finish,” he replied.

The hotel staff were great throughout my visit. They were very warm and friendly and didn’t even show a hint of smirk when I confessed how long I had struggled to arrive. They smiled and said it happens all the time.

Just as visitors might experience problems between their key cards and the elevator readers. At times, you may have to attempt to initiate and re-initiate the key card reader several times without any luck. No worries, the elevators will always take you to the hospitality floor no matter what and the front desk staff will replace your card without question. At one point I carried nine cards, each activated for my room and pushed each one against the reader like a deck of playing cards until the elevator found one that was temporarily acceptable.

The hospitality floor is a work of art in itself. Visitors are greeted to an immersive celebration of art from the furnishings, wall décor and lighting. The common area past the front desk has fixtures on the ceiling that shows video art inside lightshades like mini silent movies. The space is so perfectly arranged that instead of being overwhelming, crowded or uncomfortable, the guest is left with a cozy comfortable experience, ready to settle into a good book or conversation.

The floors are distinguished by a palate of primary colors. And green, I’m not sure what gave green it’s own floors where the honor was not bestowed upon purple or orange but I suppose that was the artist’s call. I stayed on a yellow floor and my room was decorated exclusively in that hue accessorized with an eclectic collection of white accent pieces. I found the room whimsical and functional. I’m not sure if I would have felt the same way had I stayed on the red floor, but leaving a piece of art with questions is part of the experience.

Overall, the room was fairly affordable. I got a two bedroom queen suite on a non-holiday weekend for under two hundred dollars. Secure parking was available for a reasonable fee.  And having finally made it to my room too late to get a table at any of the nearby restaurants, I was still able to rely on Door Dash.

That guy too, wondered how to get to the front desk.

My takeaway: leave your assumptions at the door and snicker at the newbies quietly.  

Do you have a hotel or inn you think I should review? Let me know on Facebook, Instagram or shoot me an email at toilandtroublemediagroup@gmail.com

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Jennifer Beck Jennifer Beck

The Cheshire-St. Louis

The Cheshire in St. Louis, MO

Take a look here! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRKYI7maPY4

With Erin attending university in St. Louis, it only made sense for Dave and I to explore the city. Since then, we have had a wonderful time enjoying many local restaurants, bars and pubs. And of course, the hotels!

One of my favorites is a quaint hotel across from Fontbonne University and Washington University-The Cheshire.

The Cheshire is a Tudor-styled Anglophilic celebration from its country manor exterior to its multi-paneled windows.  A life-sized royal guard figure stands watch over the entrance, one I confess I take a selfie with at the end of each visit. Visitors are next met by the front desk staff centered just inside the door. Guests are quickly checked in, issued their keys, and directed to park in the hotel’s parking garage just next door.

The hotel rooms are reasonably priced, but the parking is a bonus. Not every boutique hotel thinks about parking.

The hotel’s lobby and seating area are warm and inviting, boasting a fire place and several cozy places to meet. A room for more formal meeting and business is available just past the elevators. The dining area is primarily used for the continental breakfast included with your stay, but a supply of coffee is always available-not to mention an every rotating variety of teas.

For me, the teas were telling. We aren’t talking a few stale bags of Lipton that someone bought at a restaurant supply store. They are brands and flavors that I keep in my own pantry. Any tea lover would be delighted to wake in the middle of the night, slip down to the dining room, and pour themselves a cup of bergamot tea. It’s a little detail that to me, screams hard core in a very good way.

Tucked away in a little unassuming corner is the hotel’s own tavern, The Fox and Hound.  Like every other part of the hotel, The Fox and Hound is expertly decorated and outfitted. Sitting in a booth before a crackling fire, sipping on a frosty glass of Boddington’s is something Dave and I look forward to every time we stay. It’s not hard to come up with little travel traditions when staying there.  

Each room is dedicated to one of Britain’s beloved sons or daughters and while practically arranged and kitted as hotel rooms typically are, the décor is decidedly British. The housekeeping staff is efficient and responsive, guests would be challenged to find anyone on their staff that does not make them feel welcome.

Including the security staff.

And this is where my seemingly routine review is about to go off the rail, but in a way I feel is important to share. St. Louis is a city of overwhelming opposites. There are wealthy people of great influence and power living just blocks away from people in unimaginable poverty. It has a history of racism and a lot of systems currently in place which continue to support oppressive and inhumane practices like these. Social services in the area, like many areas throughout the country, are stretched to unsustainable measures. Quite frankly, they are incapable of meeting the needs of the area’s poor and mentally ill, contributing to an ever-growing number of homeless. I see them on the corners, begging on street corners, sleeping in doorways, doing whatever they can to survive.

And sometimes they find their way to warm hotel lobbies.

It was on one of my visits where I noticed a poor young man in the lobby. He was among a large crowd that night, a wedding party had chosen the hotel at which to stay. The man sat with the other guests and may very well have been a member of the group. He would have blended right in, except he was frequently distracted, nervous and twitchy. Other guests moved away from him as I watched to see them return. Instead, I saw him talk to shadows and reflections.

He wasn’t bothering anyone. For the most part, he was quiet and unassuming. He was dressed casually but clean. But as time went on and visitors started thinning out, it was more obvious he wasn’t a guest. And the more privileged guests began to make noises.

I saw a pair of white men in their late twenties dressed in suits go up to the front desk to complain. One of them said he seemed dangerous. I have no idea how. The last time I checked, poverty wasn’t threatening.

But as each of these jackasses complained, they returned to their party and told them all about it. Then emboldened by their buddy, they each launched their grievances as well. After watching a crowd of Karens and company shuffle by the front desk, I began to get concerned for the man-who by now appeared obviously vulnerable and disabled. Erin and I decided to sit in the lobby and wait to make sure he wasn’t mistreated.

Around nine o’clock, the security man began making himself more apparent. Originally, the security guard positioned himself at a distant table by the dining room, away from the tavern and common area. He nursed a cup of tea and watched. That was fine by me. So long as he was watching, he wasn’t abusing anyone.

During Covid, The Cheshire took steps to promote safety, closing their lobby at ten o’clock. When the hour came, the guard notified guests the area was closed. That meant he had to deal with the poor homeless gentleman who was still in the lobby. Erin and I hunkered down. We weren’t going to leave until we were sure the homeless man was safe and didn’t end up at the nasty end of a beating.

The guard didn’t pay any attention to the two white women staring at him from the corner. He approached the increasingly nervous homeless man and politely told him the lobby was closing so it could be cleaned. If he wasn’t a guest there, he would have to leave, the guard explained.

The homeless man stammered and fidgeted, then lied and said he was a guest, but he lost his room key.

“What’s your name, Sir?” the guard asked.

“Um, it’s not under my name,” the man answered, obviously uncomfortable.

“Sir, we need to close the lobby now, so you will need to go somewhere else,” the guard said calmly.

“But I am staying here,” the man said, standing up and moving in our direction. “I’m staying with them.”

The guard stepped in between us and turning towards the man slowly, repeated his direction. “I’ve got no problem with you, man. But you can’t stay here after closing.”

The man nodded and left.

I have seen different varieties of this same interaction play out a dozen ways. Most often, they involve those in charge calling police or directing their security personnel to rough up the offending party. Its cruel and inhumane, and in nearly every instance I have witnessed completely avoidable. The security guard at The Cheshire was thoughtful, respectful and professional. He never stopped thinking, never stopped being courteous, and never lost control of the situation. I not only felt completely safe during the interaction but felt additionally secure knowing he did everything in his power to ensure the unexpected visitor was safe as well. It meant more to me, and made a larger statement to me about the compassion of those working at The Cheshire than any piece of décor or bag of tea could.

My takeaway: This is the kind of hotel you want to stay at! This is a home away from home.    

Do you have a hotel or inn you think I should review? Let me know on Facebook, Instagram or shoot me an email at toilandtroublemediagroup@gmail.com

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