Getting out of tricky situations isn't easy. But along the way, I get to hang out with princesses (they never wear their crowns), camel jockeys (literally!) and famous (well at least quasi-famous) people...all for the love of media and travel.
Today I’m in the office. I’m in “grinder mode.” Actually, I’m in Finder/Minder/Grinder mode. I’m sure you up and comers know what grinder mode is, right? (If you don’t, you should.)
Let’s go over the definitions…
Finders—these are your sales and marketing types. From finding your audience to positioning your product or sales proposition, it’s their job to get the right eyeballs from the right people to your company. The more the better. We are the creators. The finder role is always underplayed and unappreciated, often taken for granted. We are “people people,” the sage analysts who know where to find lead, how to find them, and most importantly what to say when they do.
Minders—these are your management types because, hey, you can’t do it all alone. Great minders know that the central element for success at the management level is being able to inspire people to climb the mountain with you. Those of you who want to overlord over every aspect of the project won’t find success [read: micromanagers need not apply]. Optimal success is found when you think of yourself as captain steering a ship on the proper path and pivoting when things go off course. Assigning clear and defined roles, teaching at the right times, and letting staff achieve are the checkpoints that need to be ticked.
Grinders—these are your invested workers who either work smart or work hard, or both. Your big ideas won’t matter without the ability to execute. Grinders get sh*t done and never forget it. The indicative sign of an organization devoid of Grinders are continued meetings that collapse in the aftermath when tasks don’t produce results.
Throughout my career, I’ve had to personally embrace all three Finders, Minders, and Grinders roles. I worry about being great. I worry about the important things. I let people work. I make sure they have the tools to succeed. And when it comes to a campaign and its data, I never fully trust the numbers and I never fully trust my instincts. I blend them while taking chances to be different. It’s worked out pretty well so far, but why is that?
Maybe it’s because I have made it a daily priority to be great, due in part to the teachings of Aristotle who wisely said,
“You are what you repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”
Being great is not about task management. It starts with your individual habits of behavior, mind, and heart as you wake each day. Keep in mind that getting up to face the world with the right attitude is the hardest part of your day. If you start with maximum effort [be a Grinder] and blend it with whatever systems of task-alerting, technology, and scheduling, you will learn the most and achieve greatness, even if it is not immediately acknowledged and rewarded by others.
stuff.
I remember seeing an interview years ago with Tony Gwynn, the greatest baseball hitter of the last thirty years, and he said the secret to his success was never taking an at bat off. Every bit of the process was important to him, as it should be to you as well. Much of this country’s workforce has a daily struggle to stay focused and give 100% of their effort because it fall into apathy where the thinking, “What does it matter?” permeates through the work day and the weekend becomes a shimmering goal within reach. If you want greatness, shed that thinking…right now.
When you map out your career, you won’t be able to chart every hill and valley. Sometimes you won’t know where the bumps are and that’s when you trust your work ethic to kick in and the process will guide your steps. As you progress at work, reading the landscape is also important. Looking for opportunities to hone your skills and develop new ones. Network by joining your industry’s professional organizations to meet new people. Always have that high visual horizon.
Not all of us can be the Finder/Minder/Grinder triple threat. Start with being a Grinder and the rest comes naturally if you have it in you. Giving your best effort every day to be great at whatever it is you are doing will bring you what you ultimately deserve—mastery of skills, accolades, a promotion, or even the break of working with advanced team.
Anyone can find themselves in a situation that they want to change jobs or industries, but striving to be great will allow you slide effortlessly from one opportunity to another. If you master being a Grinder, you have successfully prepared yourself to be “lucky” when new opportunities present themselves. Because, after all, I’d rather be lucky than good, but you have to be good to be lucky.
I’m at a local eatery working, of course, on finding the next big idea. The last few years have been fruitful on my pursuit of these grand plans for advertising and marketing grandeur. It never stops. But the quest for being great should never stop. Employers and businesses want that. They demand it actually and I am one to oblige them at every time.
My work should be a performance of sorts; at least in the advertising world. My ego tells me that I’m on the payroll is because the people paying my bills want to see me perform for the same reason you went to see Baryshnikov dance, Christian Bale act or the sun set over the white sands of Hawaii. It’s art in the form of advertising. It’s not work, it’s a recital. I can’t be just an ad man. I must be a virtuoso. Itzhak Perlman with a violin. Michelangeli at the piano. Gretzky with the puck.
I don’t play the ad game where everyone else does. I play it behind the scenes. I don’t bluster in meetings trying to charm people to go forward with my ideas. I work in the sanctity of my office, or offsite, sifting through muse and the magic of data. I come in for a landing every now and then, usually with a creative brief fresh from the design team. Sometimes I get the feeling my colleagues don’t know where I have gone until I plop the brief down in an email and shout “right over here.”
Yet I digress…
So why am I not in the office collaborating all “think tank-like” in a brainstorming session, you ask? Eating alone has become a crucial aspect of modern living. The commuter, the businessperson, the student—everyone is doing it these days and according to the Great Britain’s Wellbeing Index nearly a third of adults in major metropolitan cities are eating alone “most or all of the time.” I remember in high school doing things solo was a red flag that you were an irreversible loner, or worse, a Unibomber type. Things are different now, as we’ve become less embarrassed about solo dining habits. Bookings websites report that reservations for one have soared, home delivery of meals is a cottage industry, while communal and cafeteria tables are increasingly popular in restaurants everywhere.
Unaccompanied dietary habits are steering us into unexplored terrain. Group dining has long been a universal human ceremony. Not only is it sensible (more hands make lighter work) but meals have, customarily been used to meet our essential need to connect with others. The multi-generational family meals that were often lore of television ads are going the way of dial-up modems. Take a look at Peggy's pitch about "connecting" for their advertising pitch.
The concept of communal dining existed from the 1960s until present day, but despite the fact that the default number that cookbook recipes serve is still four or six, changes are afoot. Most of us are time-poor and overworked (at
least in our own mind). Eating alone, at least for me, has turned into a
brilliant space to image campaigns. As I wrote earlier in the year, (and
not just Taco Bell) best Big Ideas can be found in the smooth future heartburn of a Taco Bell quesadilla with fire sauce food.
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The trend for eating alone has contributed to the popularity of hummus and guacamole dips for less polished lone cooks who aren’t seasoned enough to whip up 15-minute meals out of those new bestsellers or get expensive Postmates or DoorDash. The boom in dips can be ascribed to people eating on their own because they are so simple to consume if you’re concurrently in a hurry and eating alone. It’s a combination of getting into a habit of thinking it’s not worth cooking for yourself mixed with comfort.
The splendor of independent dining is that you are free to savor your guilty pleasure without judgment from others. Mealtimes now are an ideal way to have quality time to yourself. It becomes a blurred border between work and pleasure and that makes work seem less like, “work.”
Another thing that may entice you to dine alone is your waistline. Eating with other actually makes you eat more and the bigger your group, the more you eat. Take a dinner for two—you’ll eat approximately one-third more than you would alone. A party of four? Plan to increase your consumption as much as 75%, because that’s what happens on average.
Trust me and the forty plus pounds I’ve left behind this year while eating alone. Try it and you make just discover the Big Ideas you’ve left on the communal dining table.
It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world. The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today, I take you to Montreal and how one of the best hotels in downtown made all of my 4:30 a.m. paranoias go away.
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Okay, so where am I?
I'm in beautiful Montreal at the luxe Sofitel Golden Mile. I'm working on my hockey book and in town to interview some former Kontinental Hockey League characters and tour one of the Meccas of Hockey: Bell Centre, home of the Montreal Canadiens.
The only problem is that the player I am interviewing insisted to meet at six in the morning which left me with an ungodly pickup time to arrive in time. So I get up at 4:30 a.m., which quite honestly is one of the most ridiculous time on the clock ever conceived. I mean its it night? Is it day? What the heck is 4:30 a.m., anyway? I don't really care who you are, whether you have to wake up at 4:30 or you have been awake until 4:30, it it utterly ridiculous. Of course if you've been up all night and it's 4:30, you have other problems that I mustn't get into here. If you're that close to sunrise and you haven't slept in 22 hours, that's another whole level of "I need to make better life choices." Yet I digress...
So there I am at 4:30 a.m., barely away and I realize that I forgot my toothbrush and toothpaste. One part of my inner dialogue is censuring myself with, "You fool, you travel one hundred days out of the year, how could you forget about your oral health? How are you going to go another fifty years without a cavity like you did the first fifty would a toothbrush?"
Then a second inner dialogue kicks in and says, "hey take it easy on yourself, things happen!" Then the two inner dialogues go at for a while like two Japanese betas in the same bowl until finally my post-caffeinated logic kicks in and I realize that I am in a fancy French-Canadian hotel and I probably can call the front desk and ask them to send up one of those oral hygiene kits. But then I remember that the last time I did this in Melbourne what I received was like a half a toothbrush. You know, one of those plastic sticks with forty bristles that don't do anything but splash water around and frustrate you. But just as that scenario plays out I remember again that I'm at the Sofitel Golden Mile and with a name like that, they have to have good toothbrushes.
So, like the brave person I am at 4:35a, pre-dawn with not a soul visible from my wonderful city view, I decide to call down for my toothbrush request. Wouldn't you know it, no one answers the phone. That continuous ringing—something that you never heard past the mid 1980s when everyone had at least an answering machine—is not only a lonely feeling, but also sets up a paranoia mindset of epic proportions. Why? Because there's always someone that answers at posh French-Canadian hotels. That's why you stay there, for the service! So on the seventh ring or so, the first thought was; "VAMPIRES." It wasn't even a delusion, it was a real cognitive thought and I know my thoughts were real.
That initial real thought was followed by my 4:37 a.m. analysis... "How many more are there like me? Do I need to stockpile garlic? What time does the sun come up? Are they wearing special rings to make it so they can still go our in the sunlight? Is the Vampire Diaries" streaming on the CW website to get one of those witch's spells to ward them off? Can I fashion a wooden stake from the desk in my suite? Did I pack a turtleneck?" ...and on and on it went until I took a deep breath, one of the deepest in my life and came to the serious revelation that no (!) I could not summon my inner Lawrence of Arabia and push back the Great Vampire Revolution of 2019.
Just then the front desk picked and that the very pleasant voice on the other end apologized for letting the phone ring six times—yes, my 4:37 a.m. mind was losing it after only six rings—and I promptly overreacted and shrieked, "What in the holy hell is going on down there? Why didn't you answer? I was going insane up here because we are in a world of trouble!"
She asked what the problems was, and still in full paranoia tilt, I screamed, "I need a freaking toothbrush, because of vampires!!!!" It was then I was horrified that I actually said that to an actual person and needed to make her understand what I had experienced in that six ring marathon of a call and said, "Sorry I need to interview a goalie in 82 minutes" like that would be a totally rationale explanation of why I would fear vampires before daybreak. I'm sure she hung up and said to her colleagues that there's some dud on the seventh floor who is having a bad trip. Anyway, the toothbrush arrived in five minutes and what a toothbrush it was! Bountiful with full medium hard bristles with a healthy and generous tube of Colgate toothpaste.
All this brings me to why I'll always return to the Sofitel located in Montreal's Golden Mile (if they will have me, that is). It has 258 rooms and suites and stands proud on posh Sherbrooke Street just a few blocks from Mont Royal Park. McGill University is next door and the Bell Centre is less than a mile away. If you want artsy sophistication, the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts is there as well. I loved my luxury suite with its Impressionist-style paintings and black-and-white framed photographs with plush goose-feather bedding and the best beds in the world. The floor-to-ceiling windows will lure you to the hustle of the city and a perfect spot to brainstorm those big ideas. Le Renoir, the upscale restaurant serves seasonal French cuisine with locally sourced ingredients. The concierge and bell staff is amongst the most pleasant I have ever had the pleasure to know and they are more than happy to help arrange a ride (that's never late), theatre tickets, or even a behind-the-scenes tour of Bell Centre, including VIP access to the Canadiens dressing rooms.
The location at the Golden Square Mile, which remains the champion of Montreal's glitz and glamour scene since the 19th century. Today, this very area is the flashpoint of the excitement of downtown, blending celebrated magic with cultural gems and tourist destinations.
It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world. The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today, I take you to Moscow and all of the best restaurants around town.
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For a lifetime it seems, Moscow wasn’t known as a destination for culinary delights or a fine restaurants. I can tell you first hand that this stigma has changed. The marriage of visionary restaurateurs and innovative chefs is pushing the culinary scene to new heights and the truth is that restaurants have now been improving for nearly a decade.
You don’t need to be an oligarch and go out for caviar, vodka and Champagne in Red Square to have a good time or a fine meal. You don’t even need to read Russian anymore to order. The prices are reasonable and 2018 World Cup brought in English-language menus to make it easier for visitors to order. Sounds like the perfect recipe to for culinary splurging.
So move over France, Italy and Poland (yes, Poland) and get a taste for Russia, one of the most surprising food destinations on Earth. Do it before the world catches on. Without further ado, here is my curated collection of the best restaurants and beloved choices from a non-stop week of consumption around Moscow.
Gorynych is the big hot spot everyone was buzzing about during the Moscow City Days. (Trust me, that’s a big buzz considering three million people attended the festivities over those two days). Named after the Russian zmei, a mythical three-headed dragon, Gorynich is the creation of Boris Zarkov, Vladimir Mukhin, and Ilya Tutenkov. The troika created this bakery, grill, and bar as an open space where diners can see firsthand how every dish is made. There are open ovens with exposed flames that create an open kitchen environment were they make “new Russian cuisine’ (traditional dishes with a twist) in a relaxed, stylist chic setting. It’s a picture-perfect spot for a dinner out with a date, friends, or for business. As a matter of fact you could spend an hour walking up and down the prep lines taking photos of the dishes up close. The staff is friendly and willing to tell you about each one.
There’s equal footing for the meat lovers—dry-aged striploin on the bone, pizza enthusiasts—burrata and truffle, anyone?, pescatarians—scallops with hummus, and the vegetarian crowd—truffle fries, rich pumpkin soup, and artichoke aioli. And these are just the start of the choices on a robust four-page menu. Don’t forget the baked apples for dessert and the gluten-free bread that will leave you looking room in your luggage to smuggle back home.
For the 24-hour traveler, there’s no better place to dine than the Café Pushkin. Open round the clock, the Pushkin’s “old aristocratic mansion” carries you back in time, circa the 1820s. Named after Romantic Era Russian poet, playwright, and novelist Alexander Pushkin, the cuisine is as traditional as his legacy. Locals will say that you come for the espresso and you stay for the food. One can argue that the Pushkin has the most delicious pelmeni (stuffed dumplings made in Russian style).
Serving up the classics like borscht, Salade Olivier, pelmeni (stuffed dumplings) boiled sturgeon, salmon caviar with millet, honey cake, and blinchiki (Russian crepes), this is the spot to go for an elegant, straightforward dining experience.
Andrei Makhov has been the head chef since the doors opened in 1999 and starts every day with a simple mantra, “’Chef that’s a profession, not a position!’ It’s not just my credo, I’m deeply convinced in this. You cannot automatically perform a set of tasks, follow the algorithm without emotions and constant concerns, take on trust the frames set by someone else. I am against ‘deafness’ in all aspects, and above all, heart ‘deafness’. I feel flavor with my nose and texture and shapes with my hands, and I do certainly analyze. That’s the way the best recipes are born and new tastes are discovered. That’s the way how real chefs grow up.”
The Pushkin truly understands service and it shows.The staff speaks beautiful, pre-Sovietized Russian (not that non-Muscovites would ever know) and their English is excellent as well. You’re treated as if you were an aristocrat who’s there to meet with the Tsar and they are on the ready with a vodka recommendation (or an espresso).
Restaurant Matryoshka Kutuzovski Avenue, 2/1, Building 6, Moscow 121248, Russia +7 495 025-25-65 Website
I didn’t know what to expect as we rolled along the streets paralleling the Moscow River en route to one of the new additions to Maison Dellos’ collection of fashionable eateries. And when we arrived to the embankment in the shadow of the Radisson Collection Hotel I still didn’t know what to expect, but when we entered Congress Park complex I didn’t want to leave.
Occupying two floors, the interior design of the Matryoshka is inspired by Flapper Era New Your City were the industrial palaces once thrived. The entry floor mingles contemporary essentials—overhead manufacturing ventilators, an open kitchen—with high-end dining lounge chairs, potted plants, wooden panel tables, along with potted plants. On the lower lever, a custom cast-iron staircase leads you to the vintage room with leather sofas, antique lighting and vintage-style artwork set against caged racks of pickled tomatoes.
But enough about the décor because the food and drink is why we all go out to eat and Matryoshka’s reinterpreted Russian cuisine masters this tricky fusion perfectly.
First they take the finest ingredients from every corner of Russia and then they put them into 19th and 20th century recipes to conjure something special. Ingredients like salmon from Murmansk, wild white salmon from Yakutia, cloudberries from Arkhangelsk, Altai honey, Zander from the Volga River, black nuts from the Caucasus, and on it goes. Local Russian goods with traditional Russian cuisine, it can’t be beat.
You'll fall in love with the Russian dumplings.
This is the spot where I feel in love with Russian dumplings. Something I never knew about before Matryoshka. With six choices you can’t go wrong: cherry, potatoes and mushrooms, halibut soup, Sakalin scallops, beef, and lamb. If I had associated these delights with Russian cuisine I would have sought them out in the many great places in Los Angeles.
Other delights you shouldn’t miss are the pumpkin pirozhki (small pies), the thin Russian pancakes, the plum-sauced veal cheeks, and the vologda ice cream with red billberry.
The other thing that will keep you there are the wine and spirits. GQ magazine lists Denis Kryazhev, the mixologist, as one of the best in Russia and he has the CV to back it up as the winner of Diageo Reserve World Class 2012 and Bartender of the Year 2013. There are literally hundreds of choices, including some rare vintages from the northern regions of Russia. The bar itself is a conversation point having been recovered from a French pharmacy.
Shinok is a term created during the Bolshevik Revolution for a comfy Ukrainian tavern where you could take a quick respite in safety. Everyone in Moscow seems to know Shinok, now a symbolic slice of Ukraine in the heart of the financial district. It stands as one of the city’s seminal restaurants and always had a certain je ne sais quoi attracting statesmen, presidents, movies stars, and even the Rolling Stones.
Here, Ukrainian delicacies are prepared in accordance with age-old traditions. But what I liked the most about Shinok is that it combines all of the best things of Russian cuisine—innovative culinary methodology and classic national cuisine—and serves them up in a modern setting that still loyal to its roots. They brought in a theatre lighting specialist to create an exclusive atmosphere in the restaurant with distinctive lighting arrangements that vary depending on the time of day. Out back, there a vintage-styled courtyard with a roomy atrium that allows you to dine under the shade of the trees (particularly a delight in the warmer times of the year).
The friendly and knowledgeable provided a welcoming docent tour of the menu, offering an assortment of sharable starters including forshmak (herring with green apple and egg), veriniki (Ukrainian blintzes), gherkins (a pickled cucumber type of vegetable) and an amazing selection of breads with generous hand-churned butter. I avoided the lard platter but the table next to us gobbled it all up and ordered more (this one seemed for the bold only, for sure). I ordered the Chicken Kiev (obviously) and it was a delight and cooked in such a way that I could imagine my great grandparents in 1880s Odessa enjoying it by kerosene lamp. Turandot Restaurant Tverskoy Blvd., 26/3, Moscow 125009, Russia +7 495 154-06-84 Website
A restaurant or a palace?
Turandot is not your average restaurant. If you replaces the tables with stadium seating and added a stage, it could be a high-end opera house. If it had bedrooms, it could be a Tsarist palace. They took the baroque, classicism, and renaissance styles and made them uniquely Turandot. A team of woodworkers, sculptors, and painters worked around the clock for six years to create the Turandot look—real paintings, murals, bejeweled porcelain vases, ornate wall and ceiling moldings, hand-painted furniture, Gobelene tapestries, antique clocks and fireplaces, along with a masterpiece of a chandelier immerse you while you dine. Every evening live classical music (violoncello, harp, violin) warms your palate to the incredible Pan Asian tastes that await you.
This is as dashing as dining gets and Turandot’s chef, Dmitry Eremeev, ensures that the food (impossible as it sounds) outdistances the décor. His “no limit” principal of cuisine crafting makes that possible
Try the unrestrained wasabi shrimp and the black caviar sushi rolls as a starter or one of the many the vegetarian options like the homemade baked cabbage pies. If you’re into experiments, try the assorted dim sum “Turandot” with the best ingredients from around the world. For your main course, may I recommend the crispy chicken with two sauces (picture-perfect skin and immaculate white meat) or the Japanese-marbled
The no limit” principal of cuisine ensures one of the finest meals around.
Kobe meat (melts in your mouth)? Whatever you choose, trust me, you won’t regret it.
The wine list includes France offerings from France, including a bottle of 1986 Château Mouton-Rothschild for 290,000 rubles ($4610 USD at 66.50 rubles to the dollar) and 32 pages of wines and champagnes from a dozen other countries at every price level.
If you’re even reasonable close to Russia, Turandot should top your dining list. It’s worth a visit to Moscow all by itself.
Kazbek Restaurant 1905 Goda St., 2, Moscow 123022, Russia +7 495 651-81-00 Website
Easily the most enjoyable evening in a 10-day Moscow run was a night in the former at Kazbek. The minute you step inside, you feel transported to emblematic apartment inside the Soviet republic of Georgia. You’re greeted warmly at door with an envelope that holds the menu and friendly conversation as you are shown to your table. The staff is dressed in old spirit traditional Georgian clothing. Eclectic family pictures hang over old world wallpaper; hand-made carpets partially cover the coarse wooden floors; and ethnic jars and ceramic plates add to the setting. What awaits you is a Georgian family feast you aren’t soon to forget.
The odzhahuri with lamb is exceptionally good.
Old wood stoves bake the incredible bread and the traditional-recipe khachapuri (traditional Georgian flatbread with cheese). And, whatever you do, don’t call it pizza (it’s a slice of heaven you can’t get from the traditional grease traps you find in the United States). Try the classics like the pkhali—my favorites being the beet leaves or the spinach with herbs walnuts, and the vast Georgia cheese platter. If you’re adventurous, garlic-dressed lobio, a dish comprised of beans and countless herbs. The
odzhahuri with lamb is exceptionally good, as is the Ostri (beef in tomato sauce). The highlight of the meal was the hinkali (dumplings with broth and mutton), which came with a special tutorial from our waiter. They have a bunched handle where they are tied off during prep. You pick up the dumpling with your fingers, bite the side of it and suck the scrumptious juices from it before devouring the rest of it. It’s almost a meal by itself.
Try the fruity Georgian red wine if you like, but if you want to get into the right frame of mind pair your meal with several shots of the Chacha. a clear pomace brandy that’s typically 80 proof or more. Simply order the “Georgian vodka” and the staff will know you understand the ways of the Caucasian Mountains.
If you want to sneak in traditional Middle Eastern breakfast while in Moscow, then Taksim is your place. Scrumptious olives, mixed cheeses, friend eggs with soujuk (or simply tomatoes), Tulum cheese, and flatbreads with decadent jams await you there. For lunch or dinner, the standouts are kefta kebab (which are accompanied perfectly with spinach and mashed potatoes), luscious lak bajun (Middle Eastern pizza), and their traditional pastry with eggplant.
It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world. The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today I take you inside the Ararat Park Hyatt in Moscow and their incredible spa.
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Okay, so where am I?
My travels to Moscow centered on a continuing my trip around the Kontinental Hockey League arenas for my new book slated for a 2021 release and a visit to the Moscow City Days to take in all of their festivities and events. I'm no stranger to the inner workings of Fairs and Festivals having spent fifteen plus years promoting county fairs back in my agency days. The average county fair brought in anywhere from 10,000 to 25,000 people a day and my clients were always happy. As I was soon to find out, this attendance total was small potatoes. Very small.
This year, Moscow celebrated its 872nd birthday with a lavish and vibrant festival throughout the city center and Russia’s main exhibition center, the VDNH (loosely translated as the Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy). The scene was wild with street performances, flash mob dances, circus acts, ziplining, high-wire walkers, private concerts, guided tours at Cosmos Museum, every Cold War Era vehicle you can imagine on display, and a special visit to the Pushkin Museum. The best thing is every last bit of the City Days was free. Three million people attended the two-day festival. Three million! Even on my best day, my record attendance for any festival was 32,091. Three million people is a mind blowing attendance number.
Moscow City Days: Three million attendees!
I spent sixteen hours walking around Moscow those days and rubbing elbows with three million people didn’t feel like that. I feel more claustrophobic at Staples Center watching a Kings game with 18,000 fellow fans than I did with 166 times that amount of people. I immersed myself in the culture of Russia and all of those stereotypes a typical American who lived through the Cold War and the fall of the wall might (and did) bring into Russia. At the end of it all I was drinking Vodka and Georgian Chacha with new friends I met along the way. Someone in the group dubbed me an honorary Moscovite (more on that another time!).
All of this hobnobbing came at a price and mainly that was my back, feet and legs. Walking 22,000 steps every day for a week takes its toll but luckily I had chosen the perfect hotel rest my weary head, the Ararat Park Hyatt.
Close to Red Square and 1,000 steps from the Bolshoi Ballet, this elegant hotel has notably good service and is home to the Conservatory Restaurant & Bar, a place with a summer terrace that serves caviar worth getting on a plane for. But it was their spa that hooked me.
Between the fifty miles walked in five days along with the discomfort of cramped airline seats and the nasty process of getting through security and on the plane, I needed some immediate relief. On Saturday, my itinerary had an open afternoon slot and the folks at my hotel scrambled to find me an appointment at their in-house Quantum Spa nestled on the fourth floor.
What resulted from my 3:30pm session was pure bliss and the eradication from several chronic conditions that had haunted me all year. This is in no small part to the incredible work and care given by Victoria, the spa's superstar therapist. Her "Russian DPS" massage made all other previous spa therapies in other countries pale in comparison. She meticulously picked the correct oils from my skin and worked her way from head to toe wiping away all the knots that had built up over the months.
A massive tip of the hat to her as she found the rock-hard, fist-sized ball of nonsense that had afflicted my sciatic nerve since that 40-floor hike to the top of Puerto Vallarta locked it all earlier this month. In one magical hour, all of my stress and muscle issues disappeared.
I owe you, Victoria! (Also George at the front desk too!)
After the massage, I was delivered fresh brewed green tea poolside before a sublime sauna session and a dip in the best jacuzzi you could ever imagine. An extra note about the tea—a departure from the tepid cup of spring water that typically greets you after a massage—it was truly special as well. This wasn't a bag of Lipton thrown into a cup of water that forces you to wish you opted for another good-for-you beverage. This was steeped from locally-sourced tea leaves and served with an organic cookie. Sipping tea by the pool was therapeutic maneuver that left me dreaming that these moments of mental purity could be bottled and opened up each time client decides to "follow their gut" and torpedo your carefully crafted media buy you spent an entire quarter constructing. Yet, I digress…
I guess the moral of the story is that if you find yourself in Moscow anytime soon, book at appointment with Victoria at the Quantum Spa and your life could very well be changed much like mine was. At the very least, book your stay at the Ararat Park Hyatt where their amazing rooms guide you to a layer of happiness not soon forgotten.
It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world. The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today, I take you to Paris of the Middle East, Lebanon and the Four Seasons Hotel Beirut with the best rooftop surprise in the region.
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Okay, so where am I?
I'm in Beirut, a city of paradox. It has a opulent French-influenced history, a proud culture, with affable and hospitable. Yet, they city has been traumatized from extraordinary political turbulence over the preceding four or five decades and it shows. A robust military presence saturates Beirut and you cannot escape the sight of crumbled buildings when exploring the historic avenues interspersed between the beautiful mosques and churches, the myriad of outdoor cafés, and the burgeoning marina the city is known for.
But seriously, none of this should detract you from visiting Beirut and soaking in its history. With its mixture of religious culture and a rather liberal social scene, Lebanon is the distinctive country in the Middle East and remains extremely safe today. There's no place on earth even vaguely like it. Everything that’s great is co-mingled with all the world's troubles all in one magnificent, screwed up, enchanted, exasperating, splendid city. I love it there in spite of everything. After visiting 32 countries in my lifetime, it remains my favorite, even after a half a dozen longish visits.
Each time I have rolled into Beirut, I’ve found a fine hotel with an inspiring view of the Mediterranean. My stop this time was no different as I found myself at the lavish Four Seasons.
Up front I have to say that every five-star hotel is not the same nor do they provide the same level of service. Trust me when I say I don’t tolerate a bad room or a crummy hotel. I’ll leave just a soon as I arrive, but something about the Four Seasons Beirut that made it so I never wanted to leave, ever.
Maybe it was because all of the 230 guest rooms have balconies. Or that the beds were the perfect blend of soft and firm or that every painting (yes, real oil paintings), every chair, lamp, fixture, was so lovely and perfectly selected for each environment. Maybe it was the designer soap that looked like it would be more at home in a palace bathroom rather than one in a hotel. Everything was high quality from massive thread-count linens to the cushioned balcony chairs and plush bathrobes and slippers.
Little did I know the best was yet to come.
A special dinner was waiting for three colleagues (and me) on the 26th floor rooftop. Here is where I was caught off-guard and where the hotel immediately became my must-experience for any return trip to Beirut: the sweeping panoramic views of the city. On a bustling Tuesday afternoon, there was a total sense of peacefulness and harmony that overwhelms you and that’s before the delectable spread of food was served.
In the 1950s, Beirut was awarded the moniker the “Paris of the Middle East” for its cultural and intellectual life along with the culinary delights that took the best of Parisian dining, simplified it and dipped it in a vat of hospitality. The 26th Floor captures that nostalgic essence and takes it to dazzling new heights serving scrumptious Pan-Asian cuisine including black cod, miso chicken gyoza, and impeccably spiced bao buns.
I spent the next few hours lounging on the roof, and partaking in handcrafted spirits and Partagas cigars selected from their vast humidor inside The Bar & Lounge. Somehow everyone on duty anticipated my every need. That special evening was the anecdote for the ball of stress I had become during the week-long trip filled with intense deadlines. A traveler could be used to this kind of thing.
The hotel features an intimate spa that incorporates local-sourced organics—sea salt, olive oil, cedarwood—into their treatments and a fitness center with stylish smartphone-compatible treadmills (just plug in and control it from their main screens), and the centerpiece amenity, the top-floor pool with 360-degree views of Beirut, the Mediterranean, and the snow-capped Lebanese mountains.
Four Seasons hotels are legendary for their five-star service and style but it’s the Four Seasons Beirut that elevates the brand. This is exactly what you get when you cross Four Seasons with renowned Lebanese hospitality. They handle the little extras everything from the doormen at the front to the location, décor, and incredible staff. This luxury property is worth the trip alone.
