Hotel Review: Makati Shangri-La

Shangri-La is a mythical place authored by James Hilton. It is located up in the Himalayas where one is eternally happy and ever so young.

While Shangri-La has been synonymous to utopia since The Lost Horizon's inception, in the business world, Shangri-La is well known as the world-class business address for topnotch fieldwork. Indeed, the Shangri-La I visited with my mom and son last weekend was nirvana, albeit a consumerist one.

The monumental landmark is conveniently located in the country's business capital, Makati. Small wonder it was a place where well heeled businessmen and socialites and people of all colors and races converge. There is an endless stream of pleasant greetings from the charming and dapper bellhops and guest service ladies, nodding becomingly to each tourist, wedding guest and all and sundry. The marbled floors of the lobby and chandeliered high ceilings are palatial. And if that's not enough for the senses, the scent of Eternity for Women by Calvin Klein wafts through the pleasantly airconditioned hall.

Our room was overlooking the adjacent Glorietta area, with a panoramic view of HardRock Cafe, Saisaki and Dad's. The bathroom was marbled with a nice bathtub and a separate shower room. There was a nice complimentary fruit bowl of banana, mandarin citrus and Fuji apples.

That night, before dinner, my son frolicked in the fourth floor pool area where he was got first-class treatment, Zack and Cody would be jealous! "I wish we lived here, Ma," my son would muse repeatedly.

The next day, I experienced the world-class breakfast buffet. Upon entering Circles, their breakfast hall, one is greeted with the assortment of fruit juices (some laced with alcohol [early in the morning!]), Japanese food, bagels, croissants, puddings and waffles. And then a long row of casseroles with every mouthwatering, culinary delight. Across the buffet counter was a another table filled with chilled milk, fruits and cereals. It was a feat to choose from the variety. Eventually, I settled for myself old-fashioned ham, steamed mushrooms, eggs Benedict and a waffle. I took a glass of Carrot and Orange juice and within minutes, I felt a lovely buzz between my ears and decided that it's definitely laced with vodka.

Relaxed and pleased from my wonderful breakfast, I milled around the hotel and struck a conversation with a lovely lady New Yorker on a business trip. The company she's with is into outsourcing, a very lucrative business enterprise and employment opportunity in the Philippines. I also talked with some locals, asking them what their affair was in the hotel. They had a call center office event in the posh venue. (They're the guys in front of the facade).

I was intoxicated with the consumerist sensuality of the hotel, the scent, the sights, and the gastronomical delights such that when a nice-looking Indian guy who happened to be a Service Manager greeted me, I gushed to him "You're hotel is beautiful!" I was bowled over when he said with a twinkle in his eye, "Not as beautiful as you."

I took a lot of pictures in hopes of encapsulating the materialistic idyll I was in. After interviewing two elegant and charming Guest Service ladies (a graduate from De La Salle College of St. Benilde, the other one from "Iceland"), I asked them to pose in front of an immense seascape of a gorgeous sunset. "Shangri-La smile!" I cheered while clicking. Just then, a tall white man in a sharp business suit, looked solicitously amused, "Would you like to join them?" he asked. He was the General Manager (with the bellhop in the photo). "You're hotel is beautiful," I seemed to say this a lot. He was delighted, "Not as beautiful as you!" (That seems to be a standard form of flattery. After all, it is Shangri-La).

On our ride to the airport for our flight home, my mother said to my eleven year old son, "There's no place like home, is there? Home sweet home."

"There's a place like home, grandma," my son said.

We both looked wonderingly at my son. Without missing a beat he said with much conviction and nostalgia "Shangri-La feels like home."

I certainly know what he means.