Last weekend, my sister, brother-in-law, niece, significant other, and I, had a sleepover at the St. Regis in San Francisco. Separate rooms of course, and I don’t think anyone slept on the floor except the dog, but calling it a grownup sleepover wouldn’t be too far off.
This is one of my most favorite hotels in the world. Since it’s in the Starwood network, they take Starwood points. Booyah. Given its dignified, urban decor, sleek with exotic woods and unpolished marble, one might think it suitable only for fancy sorts. In fact, one could not find a better reward for umpteen nights in Sheratons, and the resultant time away from home, than to bring the family to San Francisco.
Where you will sleep in a bedroom like this.
The taupe, gold, and grayed blue palette speaks to me like Morgan le Fay across a gin martini. Seductive, ageless, with a twist.
Of course, you might want to move the bedroom succulents if you bring very young children. Otherwise, they make for nicely focused meditation. We’re big meditators here in Northern California.
Do watch the kiddies’ noggins in the enormous bathtub. Luckily you can see the tub from your lush bed, if you open the panel between rooms. Notice the artwork hanging on the bedroom wall. Artwork abounds.
The whole family will be happy about breakfast. From the silver teapot to the truffled frittata to the brioche French toast. Delicious.
Dinner will come round eventually. The bar doesn’t seem to mind if a well-behaved kid, and her many adults, settle into a post-prandial sofa. We ate, by the way, at Prospect. Very good place for groups in which some eat a Mad Men kind of diet, and others prefer the nose-to-tail approach. SF foodies might take their cousins from elsewhere to dinner, quite happily.
The highlight of our evening was a nighttime swim. Imagine this pool, illuminated, dark sky and city lights in the windows. Imagine most of us sat in the alcove you see at back, while the niece and her father swam. We all felt the this is special switch click on, tick, endorphins and recognition spreading throughout our bodies. This can happen anywhere, especially with family. Hospitable water ups your odds.
The tiles of the showers that line the pool walls verge on the Hearstian.
And when the joys of hotel living pale, one can saunter out. Those flowers will still be sitting in the lobby.
The St. Regis is right next to San Francisco’s convention center, Moscone. And in true California style, we’ve got a garden slash park slash skating rink up top. It’s called Yerba Buena. Take a merry-go-round, a park with giant slide, add modern architecture and our January blue skies. What’s not to like? (OK, so you may have to ignore the smell of marijuana. Apparently the name, Yerba Buena, has multiple meanings. It’s California. What can I say?)
If you’ve still got some energy, or the kids do, head up past Market Street. You’ll come to another part of San Francisco that children love. Me too. Chinatown.
Speaking of which, Happy Lunar New Year to all. We love our tourists in this city, we depend on you. So please come visit some time, even if you’re not going to stay at the St. Regis. May and September are particularly nice, and don’t forget to wear layers. You’ll wind up carrying your kids’ fleeces, but life is ever such. Besides, we’re very good at salads.
No remuneration was received for this post. The opinions are wholly my own.