I wasn't going to write a full review on my phone while sitting down at breakfast with my cold omelet and missing coffee. Even if I could type like a stenographer on it, I am prone to hyperbole during moments of stress, as that previous post shows. So here's my post after having a chance to decompress.

Our story begins at the afternoon tea presentation. We were one of the lucky ones, getting in a bit early before the crush and hunkering down in a niche in the back before the service actually began. By the time we started being served, it seems that there were about 20 people crowded near the entrance waiting to get in. And their reward for getting in would have been a seat in an packed open area that surely wouldn't pass the city's social distancing recommendations.

My last stay here was during New Years in 2014, when the hotel was very fully booked, but I don't recall ever seeing a scene like that. I also don't recall people staying other floors besides the 53rd where the club lounge is. Our room was on the 52nd floor, and I saw other people visiting from the 51st. I thought the whole point of not upgrading Bonvoy elites to a club lounge at a Ritz Carlton was to prevent things like this from happening? How can a Ritz Carlton club lounge be so miserably overbooked when they have complete control over the number of people that can access it?

The afternoon presentation itself was fine, but this would be the beginning of a phenomenon that would repeat itself a shocking number of times: drink requests to staff that disappeared into the ether. My wife ordered a green tea with her tea set. After thirty minutes of not receiving it, we requested it again. Nearly thirty minutes later, still no tea. At this point, we started feeling sorry for the throng waiting outside the entrance, so we just left.

Before we talk about the evening presentation, I should mention that all five of the presentations were set items that were all brought to your table. Gone are the bountiful spreads that you could choose from freely. With the exception of a few pastry items available on a central table until about 4:30pm, you get a determined set of items, and that's it. We were never asked about potential allergies, so you're on your own with that. Furthermore, the evening and breakfast presentations were by reservation only, and you could only stay for 60 minutes, which is the most draconian time restriction I've ever experienced at a restaurant or club lounge. But, dammit, the hotel's revenue projections must be met!

Fortunately, I'm not a picky eater, and all of the items we were allotted were tasty, so that was fine. But again with the lost drinks! This time I was victimized, as apparantly a cafe latte order was too much for the over-taxed staff, and eventually our time ran out. If you can't fulfill my drink request, then don't go out of your way to ask me about it! Tell me how to DIY it, and I'll do so!

The night time presentation made a case for being the saddest change of them all (though in honesty, with the exception of the afternoon tea, all the presentaions made a case for this). Gone are the rows of the cakes, the pies, the cookies, the chocolates, the choices of cheese and things to eat them on. This is what you're now asked to make do with:



This is all you get. This! For two people! At least we didn't have to share a cracker; we each got our own. What I didn't get was the peppermint tea I ordered. Although in fairness I only gave them 20 minutes this time, because we couldn't get a niche in the back, and I didn't want to stay maskless in this mass of humanity any longer.

This leads us to breakfast. Oh boy, breakfast. Again with the reservation, again with the sixty minute time limit. We were tasked with choosing a dressing for the salad, and a single hot item to be prepared for each person. The speciality omelette sounded nice, so I went with that. And of course, without a hint of irony, we were asked whether we would like something to drink. Okay fine, it's a new day, please bring us a cappucino and an ice cafe latte, thanks.

There were three different types of dressings, there were two of us, but apparently, only one dressing could be chosen. I could only assume that the dressing was pre-applied to the salad that would have to share, so I yielded to my wife's preference over mine. Eventually the salad arrived, with the dressing on the side. So...why in the name of Charles Dickens could we not have individual dressing choices!?

So we're forty minutes in, and at last my omelette arrives. Stone cold. The chef making it was maybe five meters away. Why would you let my only warm item sit for however long it took to get this cold? Why?? If you had just told me it was done, I would have gotten up and brought it to my table myself! Oh, and where is our cappucino and ice cafe latte? At this, the nice lady sprung to action, returning in a blazing fast five minutes or so, with a regular coffee, as our sixty minutes were about to expire...

I should mention that the issues were not exclusive to the club lounge. Finer establishments like the Park Hyatt Tokyo require you to make a reservation for the pool during times of crowding, which you can do by calling into the desk. The Ritz Carlton Tokyo does not let you do this. At the Ritz Carlton Tokyo, you scan a QR code with your smart phone (IMHO, any hotel that does not allow me to leave my smart phone at home to escape its cacaphony is disqualified from calling itself a luxury establishment) and register your email address to enter a virtual queue to use the pool. Also, there are no changing facilities at the pool; you are required to change in your room, put on a gown, and wait around until the website deems you worthy of entry. There is no telling how long this will take; once we were the 21st group in the queue and it took 45 minutes before the website deemed us worthy. The other time I was 6th in the queue, but it took 50 minutes.

When you finally get to the pool, the staffing issues continued. It took five minutes for someone to bring the swimming cap required to enter the pool. The first time I just gave up, and spent a few minutes relaxing in the chair before dryly returning to the room. But the second time, I was determined to get wet. I patiently waited for a group of Japanese to finish using the jacuzzi, but they were having none of it, and there were no staff around to make sure other guests could have their socially distanced turn.

But by this time, I had gotten acclimated to the Ritz Carlton Tokyo. This hotel is ruled by the law of the jungle. The strong survive. So finally, I just walked into the jacuzzi right into the middle of the chattering throng, plopped my big gaijin butt down, let out a nice breathy sigh, and watched the natives scatter. Victory!

To be fair, the room is still very nice, and just as I remembered it. The beds are incredibly comfortable, the view is still amazing, and the desk still features a convenient composite input for the TV, allowing you to plug the yellow, white, and red cables from the VHS that you brought in from home with ease. Smart moving taking a wait-and-see approach on that new fangled "HDMI" technology, to see if it stands the test of time. It's not like you would ever want to plug in a Fire Stick to kill some time whist waiting an indeterminate amount of time in your bath robe to use the pool.

If the lady still goes gaga over this place, then she either gets a separate service that's never shown to the masses, or she needs a serious intervention, stat. This hotel replaces the Aman Tokyo for the distinction of biggest discrepancy between the hard and soft product.