The Portofino has quite spoiled us for anywhere else. Our host had family coming into town for Easter and so the Cackler and I were forced to decamp to Miami Beach. The Grand Beach Hotel boasts “luxury and comfort within reach” but we find it a bit of a comedown after the luxury and comfort to which we became accustomed at our premier address in South Beach.
The problem is the public. And their children. They are everywhere, applying their suncreams, throwing their beach balls and chatting on their smart phones. We don’t like it.
We are also put out to have to share a room after our acres of space at the Portofino and of course, although we have two bathrooms, we miss the powder room. Once you get used to more than one bathroom each, it is hard to do with less. The Cackler is sleeping on a put-you-up in the living room of our mini-suite and was most put out to have to contact housekeeping three times to get her bed linens delivered. It wouldn’t happen at the Portofino.
At the Grand Beach, we have a beach view only if we crane, and the hotel is on a busy road with no charming shops or restaurants. Last night we walked 10 blocks in search of dinner and ending up getting a cab to a chinese restaurant which offered the only non-hotel fare within miles. We ate our Mongolian Beef and Szechuan Pork and thought longingly of the cocktails at the Big Pink, our local when we lived below 5th street and among the rich and famous.
We arrived back at the Grand Beach lobby at about 10:30pm in time to see a bosomy bevy of bachelorettes out boozing with a bride-to-be. The Cackler heard them conclude their party on our corridor about 3:30am. It wouldn’t do at the Portofino.