skip to main |
skip to sidebar
You love those little extras as much as I do, don't you? You know what I mean... a refreshing welcome drink (when you arrive hot and sweaty at a hotel), chocolates on the pillow with turn-down service (just when you're craving something sweet), an amuse bouche before dinner (when you're feeling hungry or just keen to have your appetite whet), or a liqueur after dinner (when you're in the mood for one drink more). Those small gestures of hospitality, whether they're innate to the culture as they are in Thailand or the Middle East, or whether they're a value-adding service, I don't care. I just appreciate that the host has gone that extra mile to make customers feel special. Whether it's about making us feel genuinely warm and fuzzy or about securing repeat business, it doesn't matter if it works and makes us happy. One independent family-owned hotel that recently impressed us with their attention to their guests was the Four Seasons Hotel Limassol, Cyprus (not part of the Four Seasons chain). On arriving in our room we found an enormous platter of fresh fruit and a bottle of Cypriot wine, the next day a small box of sublime chocolates and jellies left on our table, and on our last day, we were presented with a box of aromatic virgin olive oils (thyme & basil - yum!). We did return. And on our second visit, the departing gift was a delicious jar of local honey. The hotel's high rate of return guests is no surprise. In Crete, we've been eating at traditional tavernas and enjoying the complimentary little bottles of tsikoudhia (a clear raki-like brandy... ah, liquid travels can be so pleasurable...) and generous servings of plates of sweets at the end of each meal - preserved figs, oranges, and quinces, fresh local yoghurt, and tasty cheese pastries with honey. Can't help but love those little extras. Sweet.
How is this for an appetizing image? This delectable little morsel of spicy deep fried chicken, served with sweet Thai chilli sauce, was delivered to the door of our room (more like an apartment) at the sublime Aleenta by three of the resort's restaurant chefs. In full chef's kit, they brandished big trays of tiny shot glasses holding these tasty teasers. And with enormous smiles they handed me a couple of the aromatic tidbits with some crisp white napkins and silver cutlery. "A taster of our food in restaurant tonight," one chef smiled. What a an idea! Not only was this another display of that terrific hospitality the Thais are so famous for, but it whetted our appetite and give us a hint of what was to come that night. It also came at a perfect time - sunset - and made me immediately want to crack open a bottle of white.
What's so special about the welcome drink? What does it really mean? I recently wrote about welcome drinks on Grantourismo: "Immediately after your arrival at a hotel in Thailand – after you’ve been greeted with a “sawadee-kaa” from all the hotel staff accompanied by the traditional ‘wai’ gesture (hands shaped as if ready for prayer) – you’re ushered to a comfy seat and offered an icy cold face towel, usually scented with aromatic lemongrass, along with a welcome drink. While the icy face towels are particularly welcomed in Thailand’s sultry heat, it’s the welcome drinks we really enjoyed. We love the variety, from the Four Season Koh Samui’s frothy pink cocktail of guava, mango juice and sparkling ginger ale, to the Muang Kulaypan’s whole coconut filled with fresh sweet coconut juice (pictured)..." So what is it really about welcome drinks that we love? Apart from how refreshing they might be? Do we really place that much importance on them? Would we really care if we weren't offered one? And what do they mean? They're a gesture of hospitality, it goes without saying. And hotels are in the business of 'tourism and hospitality' so it's a gesture we should expect. Then why are we so delighted to be handed a glass of water and damp face cloth? Is it because someone has shown us that they care? Some cultures place more emphasis on these gestures of goodwill than others. We've lived in the Middle East for ten years and everything that's said about Arab hospitality is true. You can't enter a carpet shop in Dubai, Cairo, Damascus, or Marrakesh without being offered tea. Water is brought automatically without asking. It goes without saying you can expect the same in most shops and businesses, in banks even, and, naturally, in people's (even stranger's) homes. Is it that in 'the West' we appreciate the hotel welcome drink so much more because these gestures of hospitality are missing from our everyday life?