1 European Excellence
Early evening, a black airport limo arrived at the Hotel De
Paris in Monte Carlo. A man, in a uniform, removed a girl’s luggage from the
trunk, all of it. A bell boy stacked it onto a cart, barely. The girl exited
the auto, perplexed, and, in vain, rummaged through her purse for an
appropriate gratuity. It launched the
courtship of Colette.
A young gentleman stood on a second-floor balcony
overlooking the canopy hotel entrance. He witnessed the woman’s dilemma and called
out, “Mademoiselle.” Pedestrians looked up to his balcony. He reached into his
pocket, removed a money clip, and threw it out the window. It sailed over the
canopy and landed at the girl’s feet. The driver picked it up and handed it to
her. She looked bewildered.
He called to her, “You are going to need it until you close
the door to your room. I am in room 211. Return the clip at your convenience.”
She called back, “Merci, I will.” Tipped the driver and
disappeared under the canopy.
A second later, her head reappeared, looked up at her
benefactor, and asked, “Do you know how much money you have in the clip?”
“No, I don’t.”
A look of delight spread across her face, and she vanished.
The man first
concluded she is young and nimble, the second, dynamic. The third, though he
could not see her clearly, was radiant.
He recently earned a degree in International Finance and joined
the family’s prestigious banking enterprise in Tahiti, surrounded by picture-perfect
palms.
His grandfather issued his first assignment. “Take six
months, visit major cities in Europe, observe how they conduct commerce, and
while there, scout out business opportunities.”
Claude Deveaux mounted the campaign in a locale he yearned
to visit, Monte Carlo in the principality of Monaco. Friends told him that if
he wanted to see activity, he should reserve a room at the Hotel de Paris, on
the second floor, directly over the main entrance.
This ideal suite afforded a view overlooking the street
below. Guests arrived in their ostentatious automobiles, an ordinary vehicle,
out of place.
The panorama presented a parade of dignitaries, diplomats,
dukes, damsels, and dogs. Luggage being unloaded and loaded, limos and Bentleys
whisked away, whooshed back.
Claude observed a Raja arrive in an open Rolls Royce, a
platform on the rear bumper for a servant holding a parasol over the potentate.
He did not suppose the veiled young woman would be the man’s niece.
The physical specimen quickly showered and shaved for the
second time, dressed in one of his suits tailored in Hong Kong, navy blue. A
white handkerchief, with three points in a breast pocket, accentuated his
style.
Hair perfectly
combed, he checked in the mirror, messed it up a bit, remembering a girl
telling him, “The problem with you Claude Deveaux is you are too handsome. At
least you could dishevel your hair.”
He sat down by the phone in anticipation, waiting so much
for being handsome. He envisioned the girl, but could not recall her features.
Her hair is a honey color or light brown. The energy she displayed amazed him,
a girl who would be exciting to keep up with.
Why didn’t the phone
ring? Silence, he checked his watch. When would she call?
It seemed incredibly long before it rang, only one hour,
“Monsieur Deveaux, sorry to take so long. I had to settle in, freshen up. I’m
in the lobby.”
“I’ll be right down.”
The elevator door opened. A drama in the crowd, a klieg
light seemed to shine upon her, magnetism oozed. A girl who once stood aside
for - or bowed to in the days of old.
She shook his hand, “Monsieur Deveaux, my name is Colette
Colville. I replaced the bills in the same denominations at the front desk.”
She handed him the money clip.
“Nice meeting you, Mademoiselle Colville. May I ask a
favor?”
Yes, certainly, if possible."
“Join me for a glass of Champagne to celebrate the launch
of my new quest.”
“What is your new quest?”
“The courtship of Colette, you are available, are you not?”
She blushed a little, smiled, “Quite possibly.”
He took her arm, escorted her into the lounge, and asked,
“May I call you Colette?”
“Under the circumstances, it would be appropriate, shall I
call you Claude?” He smiled.
Champagne poured, he made a toast, “Here’s to the
courtship.” Glasses clinked and were refilled several times.
“Claude, will there be more to this courtship than making
me tipsy?”
“Mai oui, I made a reservation for us in Le Grill. Our
table will be available in a few minutes.”
“So, we are having dinner together.” She did not wait for
an answer, “By the way, why are you courting me? I’m not a ravishing beauty.”
“No, you are not.”
She looked at him, “I have a forgettable, athletic figure.”
“Yes, you do.”
“The color of my hair is not golden.”
“No, it is not.”
She became miffed, “Claude Deveaux do you have to readily
agree with me? Just why do you want to be with me?”
“You are terrific, just terrific.”
She looked surprised, “Is that good?”
“Colette, it is indeed. Terrific trumps all else. If a
person is terrific, nothing else matters.”
“I do not see it in a mirror.”
“You cannot, and no application of cosmetics will create
it. When you are terrific, you never lose it. As you become older, you remain
terrific.”
“Well, then, I like being terrific.”
He said, “Our table should be ready,” and escorted her
towards the dining room. They passed the ladies’ room. She excused herself.
Not long, “I checked, but didn’t see terrific.”
He put his arm around the girl, “Colette, trust me.”
They ordered, she asked, “Claude, I’m wondering, are you
related to the Deveaux family in Tahiti?”
He, “Yes, you know the name?”
She, “I’m from Tahiti also. My family owns the Colville
Hotel and Resorts.”
He said, “My family has Sunday brunch there often. I have
been out of the country learning global banking, but have been to all three of
your five-star locations, the Hotel in Papeete, the resorts in Moorea and Bora
Bora. They are magnificent.”
She said, “Thank you, doesn’t your family own the Deveaux
Bank?”
He said, “Yes, Colette, what are you doing so far from
home?”
She, “Marketing our locations through five-star hotels in
Europe, Hotel de Paris is my first stop. Are you on vacation here?”
He, “No, it’s part of a business trip to get a feel of the
major cities in Europe. I will be on the continent for six months. I have
always wanted to see Monaco. It may not be big, but it is certainly bustling.
What is your marketing plan?”
She, “A brochure will be printed illustrating the exterior
and a room scene of a few of the best hotels in Europe. The back pages will
include our three locations. We will incur printing costs and put a copy in
each of our rooms. The hotels will reciprocate and place a brochure in their
rooms. I am going to make the rounds, talk to the managers. What do you think?”
“A great idea, it will be good publicity for all. You
should be able to sell it.”
They had lemon sorbet swimming in vodka for dessert. “Will
you continue courting me tomorrow? I’m going for a morning run, then to the
famous hotel seawater pool?”
“I’ll skip the run. I could not keep up with you. People
would think I am chasing you. I’ll join you for a swim, say eleven.” His
business plans changed in an instant. He would attend to something urgent first
thing in the morning.
She said, “Thank you for the wonderful evening. I think you
are terrific, too.” A peck on the cheek, she disappeared into an elevator.
He went to the front desk, sent a telegram to his
grandfather, “Arrived this afternoon. Identified an opportunity, our bank
slogan will be: Deveaux Bank – Switzerland of the South Seas.
Swim cover-up removed, she perched at the edge of the pool
in a one-piece white bathing suit. Arms extended over her head, palms together,
fingers pointed towards the sky, she stretched up on her toes. The girl, not as
scrawny as imagined, her figure, slight and sleek.
Muscles gracefully flowed into another, no bulges, all
gentle curves, long and lean, slender as a fencer. She arched her body,
launched into the pool, only a whispery splash. Wide shoulders tapering to slim
hips smoothly sliced through blue water. Arms did not flail about; they reached
straight out, cupped the water with palms and fingers together, stroked,
surging forward. A perfect flutter kick continued to propel her.
She swam in her lane, back and forth, a racing flip at the
walls, a sensual tan body in white slipping through blue, leaving a bubbling
wake, attracting the eyes of men who vowed to improve their swimming and lose
weight.
An image a man usually does not forget, is a woman drying
off with a towel, “Colette, with all your running and swimming, you must be
starved. Let us cover up, have lunch on the terrace.”
She devoured her lobster salad and two glasses of iced tea.
He said, “Colette, we have an ‘anniversary’ coming up.”
“Whose?”
“Ours, it is the first day of our courtship. This evening
at seven, we will celebrate, all right?”
“Yes, though aren’t anniversaries annual events?”
“Not for us. We shall meet at the same time, repeat last
evening, have Champagne in the lounge, dine in Le Café.”
“Sounds lovely, I must do some shopping this afternoon.
What will you do?"
“Explore,” which was not entirely factual, he worked all
morning with a graphic designer and would continue after lunch.
They met in the lobby at seven. He escorted her into the
lounge. Champagne served; he toasted their first ‘anniversary.’ Glasses
clinked.
“Colette, I have something for you,” handed her a black
velvet box.
Inside a gold bracelet with a disk, in the shape of the Hotel
de Paris, engraved with the numeral 1 and ‘Hotel de Paris’. She beamed with
delight. He fastened it on her wrist
“I shall treasure this forever.”
The two decided on gazpacho followed by veal de l’orange,
again finished with the lemon sorbet and vodka. “Colette, yesterday you
mentioned you were here to identify a few five-star European hotels and include
them in your brochure. The select few establishments would place copies in
rooms as publicity. I think it is an excellent concept and would like to insert
a plan in which Deveaux Bank could be a partner, a joint venture.”
He handed her a red leather-bound book, small enough for a
woman to slip into her purse, and take home, place on her coffee table. It had
five stars embossed in gold on the cover, nothing else, imbuing elegance.
She opened it. The first spread, a picture of the Hotel de
Paris on one page, a photo of a suite on the opposite page, all in full color,
pasted on the paper. Lines were drawn below each; a mock-up, followed by a
number of blank pages.
“Colette, turn to the back of the book.” There she saw
three spreads depicting the Colville Hotel and its two resorts, all inviting.
“Now see the last spread.” There, a photo of the Papeete Deveaux Bank in its
famous setting of swaying palm trees, a listing of its branches on the same
islands as the Colville resorts, Moorea, and Bora Bora. No other advertising.
He asked her to look at the back cover, embossed in small
gold type, ‘Compliments of Deveaux Bank – Switzerland of the South Seas.’
“Claude, what a wonderful idea, I can see women taking this
home, placing it in a space of prominence. It says, ‘I’ve been there.’ What is
your plan?”
“First, let me assure you, the Deveaux Bank will absorb all
costs of this project, including production, printing, shipping, and sales
expenses.” He asked, “When do you plan to call on this hotel?”
“I haven’t made an appointment as yet.”
“Good, give yourself a week, there is work to do. I would
like you to identify a total of 26 hotels. Our graphic designer will paste up a
complete book from stock photos. It is essential that every potential hotel be
included in the mock-up.”
“Why is that?”
“Negative selling, when you approach a hotel, you will not
ask if they wish inclusion in the publication. You will suggest removal if they
are not interested.”
“No one will do that. The ultra plush appeal of the book
could only enhance their reputation.”
“Correct, especially when there is no cost to them. All
they have to do is arrange for their maids to replenish those books taken each
day.”
She asked, “Claude, why is your bank interested in this
project?”
“For the same motive as yours, access to a captive
audience. Five-star hotel patrons are also a potential customer of ours. Most
guests will thumb through the book during their stay. Many will take it home
and see us repeatedly. A percentage will make reservations with you, perhaps
visit our bank. We have an advantage over you. They can call us on a toll-free
number and discuss the benefits of making a deposit with us.”
“Which are?”
“Deposit funds in a numbered account like those in
Switzerland, not everyone likes snow, and some of their money can be invested
in foreign currency trading for faster growth.”
“Claude, what is your rationale for 26 hotels?”
“The book should cover most of the major cities in Europe;
include the best of the best, where the cash-rich, register. We can spend one
week at each hotel, tour the city and acquaint ourselves with all its charms
and attractions.”
“Under the circumstances, wouldn’t it be better for you to
make the presentations?” She asked.
“Not at all, I understand theory, but you are a natural
born salesperson, your father knows it. That is why you are here. I forgot to
ask; do you go for it?”
“I go for it.” She smiled and asked, “26 weeks is six
months, isn’t that a long time?”
“Not when we include our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon! Claude Deveaux behave yourself! We have known
each other for one day.”
“I realize I may be rushing things a bit.”
“A bit, isn’t there supposed to be a wedding first, not to
mention an engagement before that?”
“Yes, of course, but I thought we could change things
around, have the wedding last. I should have given these to you earlier.” He
handed her a square velvet box. She opened it, two rings in it.
“Is this an engagement ring and a wedding band?”
“Yes.”
“Claude, you have had your head buried in finance too long.
The rings are beautiful. First, you have known the girl for longer than two
days. Second, you propose on your knee. If the girl says “yes”, you slip the
engagement ring on her finger. After a period of time, you have a wedding,
place the band on at the altar. Voila! Then a honeymoon.”
“Yes, I know. Colette, this has all gotten out of hand. I
should never have mentioned a honeymoon. I intended to perform in a slow
measured way. Tomorrow I will propose to
give you the engagement ring. In another day or so, I will suggest our
traveling arrangements. Having separate rooms, being exceedingly boring, we
would register as Mr. and Mrs. Deveaux, give you the wedding band to wear, and
assume our trip is a quasi-honeymoon.”
“Now that’s perfectly clear. What is a quasi-honeymoon?”
“We will not book the honeymoon suite; you won’t bring a
bridal negligee. There will be two double beds. Colette, let me assure you, I
love you, want to marry you as soon as we arrive home in Tahiti. You will be
presently engaged; have these six months to think it over. What do you say?”
She thought for a moment, “Mais pourquoi pas?”
He thought, ‘She is terrific.’
Work to do, they identified an additional 25 hotels. Their
criteria: hotels should be located in a well-known, inviting city; have one
hundred or more rooms, and they should be legendary. The Hotel de Paris in
Monte Carlo, a perfect example, built in 1864, is extraordinary, like no other
in the world, on the list of everyone whose high self-esteem demanded the
absolute best in world travel.
The day came. Colette walked into the manager's office of
the Hotel de Paris with her book. She danced out, twirled, jumped, and
whispered, “He loved it.”
Claude said, “And I love you.”
The next day, Mr. and Mrs. Deveaux’ checked into the
Majestic Barriere in Cannes, France. The renowned hotel epitomized the heart of
the Cannes Film Festival, located on La Croisette, the world-famous promenade.
This glamorous French Riviera Art Deco Palace enjoyed the
prestige of being home to one of the priciest suites in the world, an 8,000
square foot pad including two sitting rooms, two dining rooms, four bedrooms,
countless luxuries and a private butler.
Their accommodations, a thousand square feet, sumptuously
decorated, faced the sea, and had two beds
The girl, nervous about making her presentation, need not
have been. She exited on the manager's arm. He revealed the entire hotel and
grounds to the young couple. The staff wondered if they were Hollywood moguls.
Cannes, occupied by the Oxybian tribe in the 2nd century
BC, now had a beachfront inundated with topless girls, “Ooh La La!” No one
complained about the progress. The town lived up to its motto, ‘Life is a
festival,’ its main industry, people-watching.
One hotel in Cannes could not begin to appease the affluent
travel market. It would need one more, The Carlton of Cannes. French windows
opened up to the sea, sunlight warmed the two in their beds; a savory breakfast
was served each morning. A run and swim aroused appetites again. Lunch
consisted of a famous French veal scaloppini that satisfied the pangs, then off
to explore.
The Carlton: a historic treasure, built in 1911, welcomed
British and Russian aristocracy. Its manager would not think of being excluded
from the Five-Star red leather-bound book. The comely salesperson, invited to
visit again, soon.
The two drove into the enemy’s camp in Switzerland. The
country did not intimidate the grandson. Two hotels targeted, the prestigious
Beau Rivage, an icon in the Swiss Alps, and the Palace, aptly named.
Colette concerned, followed her partner’s advice;
accentuate the negative approach. “Monsieur, perhaps you may want to be removed
from our book.”
“Not at all, thank you for including us.”
The two motored over mountain passes into Bavaria and
Munich. An oddly named hotel awaited them, the Mandrian Oriental, a calm refuge
of Neo-Renaissance charm and elegance. Asian objects d’art, thousands of years
old, rendered the hotel a private museum.
The manager, enthralled to have his hotel and pool
illustrated in the ‘Five Star Book.” Colette is on a roll; nothing could stop
her success in Frankfort, Cologne, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Brussels,
deliciously dangerous, reaching Paris.
Four hotels in the romantic city did not even tickle the
market. It had been difficult to choose. Their first stay, at the Hotel de
Crillon, built in 1758 (how about that), overlooking the Place de la Concorde
and nearby the Jardin des Tuileries, along the Seine, a living symbol of French
Culture and Art de Vivre.
The second stay, at The Plaza Athenee, not just a hotel, a
way of life, quiet, beautiful, distinguished. Since its inauguration in 1911,
the Plaza has radiated an incomparable, elegant Parisian charm that seduces an
international clientele. The Flower Power, an exotic non-alcoholic cocktail,
served at the Bar du Plaza, to the likes of Josephine Baker and Rudolph
Valentino, lounging about, a Belle Époque hotel, equal parts classical French
style and contemporary hipster hangout
The girl in the white bathing suit, cruising back and forth
in the blue Versailles pool, caught the eye of guests in the Hotel George V.
The eight-story house, classified as a palace, elegantly decorated in the
Haussmann style, was furnished with pieces reminiscent of the Louis XVI style.
The first thing the pair did when they walked into the
Hotel Ritz, Paris, established in 1898 by Cesar Ritz, was head for the
Hemingway bar, rich in period atmosphere, which the writer so loved. They had
sunk into the same cushions, ordered single malt whiskies, emulating the man
with the distinctive white beard, who exuberantly invited all nearby into the
small bar at the end of World War I.
Breakfast, pots of coffee and warm scones, half a dozen
newspapers from around the world started the day. Then they would reconnoiter,
prodding into politics and people, the keyhole into discovering the methods of
trading in foreign currencies.
The young girl, who never bowled in her life, averaged 300
in knocking the pins out from under hotel managers. She and her partner flew to
London. They had four games to play in the city.
Claude Monet and James Whistler booked at the Savoy Hotel
on the Strand. From their rooms, they painted views of the River Thames, and
that is just for starters.
One of London’s most prestigious, opulent hotels opened in
1889. It remains a bastion of English exclusivity. This gorgeous hotel oozes
old-style Hollywood glamour and Art Deco features. It is so swishy it even has
its own street, Savoy Street.
The Coleridge Hotel’s first seed was sown in 1812. By 1838,
a row of five consecutive houses created one large hotel. Foreign royalty,
including the Grand Duke Alexander of Russia and King William III of the
Netherlands, made it their home away from home.
The five-story Connaught, built in 1897, welcomed the
couple. They reserved one of the 92 rooms. It had two beds. The fashionable
address imparted an aura of a country residence with its original oil
paintings, antiques, and mahogany staircase. Timber paneling and open
fireplaces are featured throughout the lobby and lounge areas.
The hotel was renamed the Connaught in 1917, during the
Great War, after Queen Victoria’s third son, Prince Arthur, the first Duke of
Connaught.
The hotel, not to be outdone, served an al fresco dining
experience in a garden setting with a retractable roof accommodating all
weather conditions. The manager, delighted with the girl who presented it,
demanded the hotel remain included in the ‘little red book’.
Afternoon tea at the Ritz in the spectacular Palm Court,
captivating, with a choice of several varieties of teas, finely cut British
finger sandwiches, freshly baked scones, jam, clotted cream, an assortment of
delicate pastries, and traditional tarts, reminded one of lazier days in the
past when time did not fly.
A London landmark at 150 Piccadilly, the Ritz has been home
to the intelligentsia, the glitterati, and thousands of discerning guests since
1906. To be one is to enjoy the ultimate in style, service, and sophistication.
They talked, thought, and behaved as English citizens when
they left, by train, for Edinburgh, Scotland. A week's stay at the Caledonia,
they were off to Dublin and the Shelbourne, then to Lisbon, Madrid, and their
final destination, Rome.
The Hotel Hassler Villa Medici, perched above the Spanish
Steps, centered in the historic Trinita dei Monti quarter, easy to find,
exceedingly difficult to leave, was the couple’s last stop. The 95 stately
rooms are a compilation of classic good taste, with elaborate moldings, gilded
furniture, French silks, 16th-century antiques, Limoges’s porcelain, playful
frescoes, and marble, marble, marble.
Of all the 26 hotels the couple stayed in, the Hassler Roma
was the most unusual; their bedroom was enhanced by one sumptuous bed.
In the Eternal City, Claude added the 26th gold disk to the
girl’s bracelet, the courtship of Colette completed.
In Tahiti, the bride and her gown are breathtaking; the
wedding reception at the fashionable European Colville in Tahiti is the social
event of the year. Dancing and celebrating concluded late. The girl changed
into street clothes, closed a suitcase, and neatly packed a flimsy negligee on
top.
As Mr. and Mrs. Deveaux departed the hotel, someone asked,
“Where will you two spend your honeymoon?”
END