If I have learnt one thing in life, it is this: some stories are just too unbelievable to put into writing. The plots make no sense, even when they are 100% real. That’s why I don’t gamble…..much. When I left Singapore, 12 hours earlier, Hillary Rodham Clinton was a shoe-in to retake the White House
You could not have more contrasts going from the antiquity of Nob Hill and the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins, to the funked-up modernity of the W Hotel San Francisco. From the staid and sedate, to the artsy and uber cool. I have experienced my fair share of edgy and cutting edge hotels around the globe, yet
I’ve just had a glimpse at the future of hotel living (note to myself: I used the word “living”, not “accommodation”) and I like it. What I just experienced at the W Hong Kong was a cut-and-thrust to classical, hotel thinking. It was a huge step forward for progression. A martini toast to the avant-garde.
I have just been left shell-shocked by my stay at the Soori Bali. It has literally blown my mind away.
It has taken me months to digest the gravity of my visit; to actually find the time and breath to etch out my thoughts into carefully construed words.
What I will say is this: when I left the Soori Bali, I carried with me an a sense of enlightenment. I felt uplifted. Emotionally purified and purged.
If it were truly possible, I had just been blessed with more love than in almost any stay….anywhere.
The travel gods had smiled on me. I had been anointed. I had become a better person.