This post is a continuation of our 18-day RV road trip. If you want to read how a bunch of rednecks ended up in a high end hotel in Minneapolis, start here.
Since we were on a time-line to get to Mister’s work event in Minneapolis, we had to drive straight through Wisconsin. So, all I can tell you is that Wisconsin (a) is beautiful with it’s picturesque farmhouses and barns, (b) doesn’t have as many Holsteins as I expected, and (c) doesn’t seem to have many Wal-Marts or large truck stops near the highway. After many miles of looking, we pulled into a Wal-Mart and settled in amongst a few trucks in the far corner of the parking lot.
After a good night’s sleep, we drove on to Minneapolis. Mister’s company had reservations for us at a hoity-toity hotel at The Mall Of America. After circling the area several times, we called the hotel and asked where we could park. They gave us directions to the correct entrance and told us there would be someone there to take care of us.
Well, was there ever! When we pulled up, we were approached by a valet. As the drop-off area filled with the sound and smell of a diesel truck, Mister spoke with him briefly. We were directed to the bus parking area on the other side of the mall and told that someone would come and pick us up. For some reason, the valet didn’t seem to want to drive our rig. 😉
I realized that the RV was going to be very far away, so I had hopped in to gather our things when there was a knock at the door. It was a bellhop complete with a luggage cart. He asked for our luggage. At that point, I realized that I didn’t have any luggage. I had packed the RV for the trip and never thought about our overnight hotel stay. So, I did what any good redneck would do. I found my stash of Wal-Mart bags and started packing. 🙂
The bellhop waited patiently and loaded our “luggage” onto his cart. I gathered my 4 kids and followed him (and his cart) toward the hotel entrance while Mister went to park. By the time we got to the door, I had stopped my kids (who were busting with energy from 2 days of travel and the excitement of staying in a hotel) from trying to “help” him push the cart.
As I approached the revolving door, I suddenly heard squeals of delight and “Oh, cool Mom! Look!” Apparently, my kids hadn’t seen a revolving door before. One was afraid to go through it and the others wanted to “do it again”, but as we entered the lobby, they found other interests.
The lobby sitting area wall boasted a long row of flames. I stopped them as they tried to rush to the fire, my oldest exclaiming, “Wow! Mom, is that real fire?” I promised them that we would look at the fire later and made our way past the group of very well-dressed business men and women to catch up with the bellhop (who was waiting and watching with lightly-veiled amusement). Our entourage moved forward briefly until my youngest boy stopped, pointed dramatically and declared, “I want to ride THAT.” I turned in the direction that he was pointing to discover… an escalator. Oh my! We must get out more. I promised plenty of escalator rides later, and we continued on. The bellhop pointed me toward the guest elevators and headed to the freight elevator with his cart.
We piled into the elevator and waited for the door to close. And waited. And waited. I hit the close button. Nothing. I pushed our floor number. Still Nothing. At this point, I decided that the elevator must be broken. So, out we went to wait for another elevator. It came pretty quickly, and we loaded up again. And, again, the door wouldn’t close. We were joined by a younger gentleman in a suit. He reached past us, scanned his room key, and we were off! I had no clue! You have to scan your room key to get to the rooms! I’m pretty sure he had no clue if we were actually supposed to be there.
We exited the elevator, and I called Mister to warn him about the elevators. He said he knew! I asked if they told him when he got the keys. He said he just knew. Seriously. Who knows that?
To our room we went, and after multiple attempts, I decided that our door key didn’t work. I pulled out the little envelope it came in and discovered that we were at the wrong room. We quickly found our room, and we were in!
By this point, I was pretty much exhausted, so I plopped down on the bed and waited for our luggage to arrive. Our luggage! We had given the bellhop the wrong room number! I ran out the door and smack into him. He ever-so-kindy retrieved our luggage. At last, Mister arrived and we settled in.
And that, ladies and gentleman, is how you write an entire blog post about checking into a hotel. Overall, the rest of the evening was pretty uneventful. Well, except for the game of charades I played with the non-English speaking maid to find out where the cement pond… um, I mean, swimming pool… was.