Life on the other side - but maybe not as we know it..

In our weaker moments some of us used the yearn for a day without any customers in the hotel. There would be times when you just wanted them to disappear.

The patient explanation that the bar was now closed to the wedding guest that had been drinking for 12 hours as your shift went into its fifteenth.

The regular customer oblivious to the queue building at reception as they told you about their latest cruise, insensitive to the phones ringing unanswered. 

The diner requiring an explanation for the meagre variety of vegetarian options while the checks piled up in the kitchen.

The problem is that it is not much fun without guests. Sitting in my empty hotel last night in the restaurant amongst the stacked-up furniture and looking at the ghostly shrouded light fittings, covered while we paint the ceiling, it was spooky. Every click and buzz were audible, noises that would usually be hidden by the sharing of stories, laughing and banter of social interaction – and that’s just the staff. 

“It’s not much fun without guests”

I’ve experienced an empty hotel before. Every year we close for one night in January so that we can take the team away for the Christmas Party. From checkout the guests disappear until by 3pm there is nobody here apart from the one receptionist and a maintenance engineer cleaning the water tanks or painting the front desk. From next morning, though, the staff return dry mouthed and hung over and by lunchtime the guests are coming back through the door.

So, what will it be like when the guests return, if they return, after 15 weeks away? 

How will they respond to mobile check-in, plexiglass screens at reception and hand sanitizer stations?

What will they think of rooms devoid of luxury items, no fruit bowls or welcome trays and menus on smart phone apps? 

Will they be able to enjoy a meal experience in a restaurant with two meters between the tables and staff wearing masks and gloves and disposable aprons? 

A career in hotels has never been about the money or the easy life. What made it better than working in an office or a shop or a building site was the thrill of a busy service and the satisfaction of people enjoying themselves. I could never understand how people could work in a controlled environment. In hotels you don’t know what is coming next. How many will turn up to the funeral – 50 or 150? How will we manage 200 people for breakfast with only 95 seats? How are we going to get through tonight when we are three staff down?

Inevitably all these challenges meant cutting corners and winging it, ducking and diving and thinking on your feet.

It was never sterile, socially distant, safe – it was noisy, crowded and often risky. No-one was going to die (although all seasoned hoteliers have had a death or two) but the people do silly things in hotels and picking up the pieces was often part of the fun.

Will they still know how to enjoy themselves?

In the new post Covid-19 world how will the customers behave? Will they still know how to enjoy themselves or will fear compound the lack of atmosphere and reluctance to engage?

We are going to have to find new ways of doing business. More continental al fresco dining. Simpler menus with take-away options for local residents. Rooms serviced at the customers request and sanitized after use. Beer provided in reusable flagons. Service measured in the efficiency of technology not personal interaction. 

One thing about hoteliers is that they know how to party so maybe, just maybe that fun will come back over time. One thing is for certain though we will never be wishing for a day without customers again.