Crossing the picket line

Our home for the next five nights is a luxury resort called the Grand Wailea, which is part of the Hilton group.

You might remember it from the Jennifer Anniston and Adam Sandler movie “Just Go With It”.

Conde Nast Traveler describes the hotel like this: “Although most resorts in Maui have open-air lobbies, none show off quite like the Grand Wailea. Arriving guests are greeted with leis and escorted through an open-air atrium filled with Botero sculptures and water fountains, all set against the backdrop of Pacific Ocean views. This is no small resort, with 834 guest rooms, a 50,000-square-foot spa, a massive pool area with waterslides, several shops, and a chapel.”

There was no lei greeting when we arrived yesterday. Instead our taxi crossed a picket line at the entrance to the hotel. Wearing yellow t-shirts and shouting chants, the employees were protesting over unfair work conditions at the hotel following major layoffs that they say have left them exhausted.

It’s a bit hard to understand why a hotel with 780 rooms that charges $1600 a night, plus a $75 per day resort fee and $85 per person for the breakfast buffet would need to lay off staff, especially when Conde Nast Traveler has previously noted “the resort can, at times, feel understaffed, especially by the pool and beach, where long waits for service are common”.

The queue the lobby to check in was about two hours long. The husband of one of the front desk staffers worked his way up and down the line, trying to help his poor, frazzled wife and apologising to everyone for the wait.

I’m not cranky with the staff for picketing, it sounds like they feel like they’ve been left with no alternative, but it was a bit of a shocker.

Fingers crossed for some free drink vouchers … although so far there hasn’t been a peep out of the hotel in terms of an apology for the inconvenience.

The hotel was already in my bad books because it doesn’t even offer a shuttle to get people around the local area to restaurants and shops. And we took the rental car back early because parking at the hotel is $100 a day!!!!!

Take me back to lovely little Inn at Mama’s Fish House, stat!

As you may recall, we’re staying at the Grand Wailea because DD is attending GlomCon 2024. I’ve looked it up and the first day’s agenda will feature renal pathologists presenting in-depth, interactive lectures on the histopathology of lupus nephritis, small vessel vasculitis, podocytophathies, paraprotein-related kidney disease, and IgA nephropathy.

Exciting!

August 8-9 will be a combination of lectures, case presentations and case-based panel discussions will dissect clinicopathological correlations and evidence-based treatment approaches in all major glomerular diseases.

Fortunately the only thing I’m attending is a cocktail reception tonight. The rest of my time will be spent swimming, paying exhorbitant amounts to eat and drink and going shopping.

DD was about as cross as he ever gets by the time we arrived at our very fancy room (view from the lanai above) and described it as one of his worst hotel experiences ever. So we dumped our bags and set off in search of a soothing beverage.

We ended up at a resort of few doors down where we made the mistake of sitting next to a very drunk local woman who demanded we put on our happy faces and pose for a photo.

She told us she was from Lahaina, which tragically burnt to the ground a year ago during wildfires. More than 100 people died and 12,000 were displaced from their homes.

My face fell with sadness when she told us and I imagined what she had been through. She was understandably damaged by it all.

Then she started grilling me about why I was sad.

Er, because so many people died and lost their homes?

No, apparently I looked a bit sad, but also “disappointed” that Lahiana no longer existed because I couldn’t visit the town, presumably because it was a lovely, historic spot to dine and shop prior to the disaster.

Er, no. Disappointment that my holiday didn’t include a visit to Lahaina was not an emotion I had been feeling at any point. But obviously it’s something she’s encountered when meeting other tourists and she’s understandably distressed about it.

Still, arguing with drunk Americans about my feelings wasn’t something I felt like doing, so we adjourned to a sunbed to watch the spectacular sunset, before ordering $45 burgers for dinner and heading back to the hotel to crack open the $45 one-litre bottle of Jose Cuervo Margarita pre-mix we’d picked up at the supermarket (bargain compared to the $30-40 cost for cocktails in bars) prior to dropping off our rental car.

I settled into an armchair and tried to log on to the wifi to check my messages. The wifi wasn’t working. FFS. DD stomped back to the lobby and stood in the queue for another 30 minutes and was told his earlier check in had not been completed correctly.

Welcome to paradise.

I really hope those poor workers get a pay rise … and not because I’m disappointed I didn’t get a lei.

Song of the day: Billy Bragg “There is power in a union”