The Wave Hotel, Miami, FL
Our hotel recommendation came from FOWA Miami website. From the description, The Wave hotel seemed like a dream. Located right on the beach in the Art Deco district of Miami, it offered a free breakfast, a mini fridge in the room, free wi-fi, and generally beautiful and serene facilities. It all sounded great. And peachy.
Except it wasn’t.
It looked nice enough from the outside. The porch was gorgeous, with plenty of comfy tables and couches. The lobby was artsy, roomy, and stylish. But beyond that this place was one huge disappointing let-down.
First of all, the whole place was old, dirty, grungy, dusty, and mildewy. The air in the hotel was so musty, it kept giving my husband allergy attacks. The bathrooms were tiny and dirty. Our bed had a fabric frame that had absorbed unreal amounts of dust, mildew, and gunk over the years. The whole place just felt incredibly grimy.
Secondly, because we had a baby with us, we needed a crib. Usually hotels have play-pens in cases like this, which is totally fine with me. Play-pens are very roomy and safe. This hotel, however, had only one crib in the whole facility. Not only was it the smallest crib I have every seen in my life, it was also from 1930’s. No more than three feet long and two-and-a-half feet wide, it was made completely out of metal. Hudson kept getting wedged in the metal bars because he loves to sleep sideways. It was a nightmare on wheels.
Thirdly, for some unknown reason some bright member of the hotel staff thought it would be a good idea to put a family with a baby in a room that connected to another room via a bathroom. Really? Our neighbors got to their room around nine pm, just as we were turning in for the night. They proceeded to turn up the TV, and then decided to bathe their children around midnight.
Now, I am a very reasonable person. I understand that children need to be bathed. But at midnight? Really? You might as well wait ‘til morning, unless they have puke and poop all over, which these kids didn’t, trust me. The walls were thin enough that we could hear EVERYTHING going on in that room. I realize this is a hotel and that I cannot expect complete silence, especially in the evenings. But this was too much.
So, the highly non-confrontational me had several conversations with the front-desk staff about this issue. I requested that they move us to another room. On the top floor (so we wouldn’t have to listen to foot traffic above us), away from the elevator, not facing the street, and certainly not connecting to any other rooms. I really couldn’t believe that the staff thought it was a good idea to shove everyone with children in one corner of the hotel in adjoining rooms.
They must have thought that since we all have kids, we’d be understanding and tolerant of each others’ noise levels. HELLO! Some of us don’t wait until midnight to bathe our kids and put them to bed. An obvious no-brainer to me, but I guess hotel staff thought otherwise.
We ended up moving to a different part of the hotel, to a bigger room. We were excited and thankful, but this jubilant feeling soon faded. As it turns out, something was wrong with our thermostat, and we all literally froze our tushies off. Bear in mind that we were all sick already, so this arctic air did not help us at all.
I made another trip downstairs to speak with the hotel staff and was informed that no, they had no space heaters (you are in Florida, I was told, there is no heat of any kind in the hotel), and they had just run out of extra blankets. And, of course, we would have to wait until morning to have the thermostat issue looked at by maintenance. Thanks for nothing.
The next day our thermostat was fixed and I thought we would finally get a break. Little did I know that all the fun hadn’t even started yet. That night our sweet baby boy refused to sleep. He didn’t want to be held. He didn’t want to be put down. He didn’t want to be in his crib. He didn’t want to be in our bed.
Frankly, I have never seen our son like this, flopping around, eyes half-open, moaning. It was surreal and I was truly scared. I asked my husband several times if he thought we should take Hudson to the emergency room, it was that scary. After eight hours of this flopping around and screaming, he finally passed out. But neither of us had any sleep and it is not fun to be in a strange city when you haven’t slept in days.
I tried to change our flight, but it would have cost a fortune, so we decided to stick it out and asked everyone we knew for prayers. We hung on and obviously made it, but barely. So to sum it all up:
Do not stay at The Wave if you can help it.
Do not stay at The Wave if you have babies or children traveling with you.
Do not stay at The Wave if you have allergies.
The staff is fairly friendly, but the facility is terrible. What can I say, you can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.
In my next Miami installment I will be discussing our diaper emergency and our son’s sand-eating ways.