No. 5 Tinkle: Chamber 370 at Hotel Gault Montreal
For once, I’m glad I took the advice of the New York Times travel section. We booked our first trip to Hotel Gault in Old Montreal in December 2003. The place had just opened, and the NY Times gave it an orgiastic review.
That wasn’t why we went.
We spent Christmas 2003 in Chamber 370 because the hotel won several design awards that MTM the Architect recognized as being Worthy of His Patronage. Plus, he missed freezing his tuckus off during Wisconsin winters. A pilgrimage to blowing snow and freezing my Southern nostrils shut would be a good indicator of whether I would make a suitable spouse.
Fluffy flecks of white blew around the window of the plane as we landed on a charcoal grey day. Our cab driver told us in Franglais that more snow was anticipated for that evening as he slid to a stop in front of a granite building on a side street. Hotel Gault. We had arrived.
I didn’t know how to walk in anything wintry, so I slipped and slid from the car to the door with the help of the valet. MTM’s face lit up when we walked into a sparse dreamworld of lobby design. Weird furniture. Strange art. IKEA glasses. Stainless steel.
I can’t WAIT to see the room!!!!! a giddy MTM squealed as we waited for the elevator.
I hope we have a real bed, not one of those hard-as-a-brick modernist/minimalist numbers I harrumphed to myself.
The door to Chamber 370 yawned open to reveal more stark furnishings: a bed, a couple of night tables with those weird stainless steel architect-y lamps on them, a big built in desk/closet, more crazy chairs and a microscopic table.
There’s no hope for the bathroom I cried, as I heaved back a floor-to-ceiling sliding door to inspect my throne for almost a week. Would it be stark? Sparse? Would there even BE one?
I gasped as I stared at the Inner Sanctum of Urinary Awesomeness. A gigantic sink with a massive shelf to hold all my products. Fluffy robes and towels. A shower stall for two with water pressure that was perfection. A hidden compartment for the toilet. A bathtub where I spent part of one whole day soaking, adding more hot water when needed to maintain my shriveled, happy state. And, the floor was heated. No sitting on the toilet with frozen tootsies because it was minus 20 outside.
We’ve spent nine Christmases in that bathroom. This year, we plan to make it ten.
This post is part of the series My Top 10 Tinkles. If this is your first visit to this urinary extravaganza, please click here to start the series at the beginning. Thank you for reading my blog, for sharing it, and for spending time here.