Page 21 - the NOISE March 2013

I have a history with historic hotels. My first job upon ar-
rival in Arizona was working the
front desk day shift at Flagstaff’s
famous Hotel Monte Vista. Affec- tionately known as The Monte V or simply
The V in local vernacular, the massive brick structure has firmly shored up the city’s downtown since it first opened in January of 1927. Something beautiful and sinister all at once about that grand ol’ dame. Heavy energy. Haunted, sure. Legendary stories oft- repeated, and many famous guests and wild nights adding to the intrigue. A crossroads of European tourists, Navajo and Hopi, mu- sicians, bar patrons, college students, hobos, old-time locals having daily breakfast in the cafe, off track bettors playing the ponies and average travelin’ folk made the Monte V a co- lossal vortex of magic in my world.
The late night lounge scene and high lone- some train horns certainly added something to the mix. Soon, the only surprise was a day when nothing surprising happened. The guests and their stories, a clash of random- ness and coincidence. The hotel staff who alternated from being tightly-wrapped like family to hissing and spitting at each other like alley cats. I sometimes felt like an extra in a movie, orchestrating a concerto of check- outs and check-ins, decked in pencil skirts and pearls, playing 1940s tunes and Nuyori- can jazz on cassette. The rooms were mostly named after the famous guests who had slept there, including Michael Stipe and Bon Jovi, and each had their own quirk, angle, view, perks. Windows could be opened to access the mountain breeze above and the street sounds below.
From my years spent in the cinematic lobby of a historic hotel I am forever stuck on vintage lodging. Such places always have the best neon signs. No fresh con- struction or easy parking for us. No anon- ymous chain motels. We prefer to share space with the memories of the thou- sands who slept there before us. Luckily, our region is chock full of historic accom- modations both high and low brow.
I always think of La Posada at Christmas time, as we spent one cozy Winslow winter holiday there with friends and dogs, playing board games in the great
room, warmed by the fireplace and whis- key-spiked egg nog. One of the few remain- ing Harvey House railroad hotels, La Posada was rescued from destruction by creative California couple Allan Affeldt and Tina Mion in the 1990s. Tearing away the false ceilings and walls installed when the build- ing was converted to office space for the Santa Fe Railway, bit by bit the architectural glory of Mary Elizabeth Colter’s 1929 grand design was restored.
The rooms are warm, masculine and Southwestern, but the real appeal of La Posa- da is the wealth of public space both indoors and out: cozy reading nooks and seating ar- eas, fine art, shelves full of coffee table books to borrow, and in recent years, lush gardens, broad lawns and al fresco hideaways. Trains both freight and passenger cruise past regu- larly, punctuating your world class dinner at the hotel’s Turquoise Room. (P.S.: try the lamb because it is the best thing ever.)
Rates are competitive with most modern hotels, but the overall value is much higher. La Posada is like its own island, its own self- contained nation in a threadbare location. Though in all fairness, Winslow (once on track to become The Next Santa Fe before travel patterns changed from railroad to highway and airline) becomes more interest- ing and artistic each year, expanding beyond The Eagles’ “Standin’ on a Corner” nostalgia. Travelers from all over the world visit La Posa- da, adding to the sophisticated atmosphere.
Have you slept in a Wigwam lately?
We have. It was slightly pointy and totally fantastic. From the 1930s ‘til the 1950s there were seven Wigwam Villages nationwide, each featuring a row of the same tipi-shaped rooms, inspiration for the “Cozy Cones” of Disney’s Cars.
N o w
only three villages remain:
No. 2 in Cave City, Kentucky, No. 7 in Rialto, California, and Wigwam Village No. 6 in our very own Arizona, Route 66, Holbrook. Rates: cheap. Neat and clean. Pets allowed.
Holbrook’s Wigwam Motel has been owned by the same family for six decades, and it’s consistently booked full, a popular overnight spot for Europeans touring the Mother Road. The parking lot is decorated with sun-faded automotive relics parked at each wigwam, enhancing the sensation of time-travel. Holbrook is friendly, with a good archive of Route 66 artifacts and roadside dinosaurs, but there’s not much happening to keep the average city-slicker engaged be- yond the nearby Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Parks.
Locally, Jerome is home to several classic overnight options, including the 1898-built Connor Hotel, well-maintained and regu- larly restored, anchored on the corner by its popular Spirit Room bar. Though 21st century Jerome features a great variety of vintage lodging possibilities, the Connor may be its only remaining hotel originally built as a hotel.
The oldest continuously-operating busi- ness in Cottonwood, since 1917, is Old Town’s Cottonwood Hotel, best known as a place where Elvis once rested his pompadour.
A historic hotel is always a treasure, even with its strange idiosyncrasies, ghosts and awkwardly-shaped bathrooms. It’s an impor- tant citizen of its community in its own right, a recurring character starring in much of the town’s history, celebrations and fame. Some- times I get giddy when I see a historic hotel, up close, for the first time. It’s like meeting a superstar.
| Ellen Jo Roberts is a fan of 20th century automobiles, architecture, cameras, and husbands.
Read all about it at
ellenjo.com
thenoise.us • the NOISE arts & news • MARCH 2013 • 21