Normal is new, but not necessarily improved.
COVID-19[1] has utterly altered many of the things we used to take for granted.
My wife and I used to enjoy the occasional escape. By changing locations, the hope was that we could escape our daily minds and return, even if briefly, to a heightened level of sanity.
So, spurred by excessive nighttime mutterings at inanimate objects and curious, spontaneous daily ululations at walls, we booked a three-night stay at a hotel in wine country. Northern California wine country, that is.
It's not such a long drive from home. And, to be frank, we just wanted to be somewhere else and sleep somewhere else.
We chose a hotel we knew. It's part of a well-known chain. How different would it be? Most importantly, how would it make us feel?
Silence Isn't Always Gilt-Edged.
The hospitality industry has been crushed by COVID-19. So many people have lost their jobs, not knowing if they will ever return. How can a hotel be hospitable when a virus is all around?
The first thing that struck us was eerie quiet.
Hotel lobbies are often places where you see people lingering, staff chatting, luggage lurking.
The last time we'd stayed at this place, the staff was positively chirping, offering a glass of champagne on entry. Just because.
This time, an echo. We checked in with a staff member who did his very best to be cheerful. But it's hard to do that when everyone's wearing a mask.
Masks make it hard to see expressions. They can even make it hard to hear what someone else is saying. And then there's the piece of glass separating you from the employees.
This hotel didn't check our temperatures. Many do.
As Marriott CEO Arne