Rosewood

Rosewood’s people notice what you like and then act on it. At the Rosewood Abu Dhabi, Mads, the bartender at the Hidden Bar, found out I love mezcal and went off to infuse a bottle of it with pineapple for me. He also knew how to make a proper Penicillin and a Vieux Carré.

That hotel is a 34-story tower on Al Maryah Island, in a financial district that was flat desert not long before. Our suite ran off an iPad — lights, curtains, and a button for the butler, who once tracked down aspirin for me. We ate at Sambusek, the Lebanese restaurant downstairs, every single night, and one afternoon the chef pulled me into the back of the kitchen to teach me a few tricks.

The Rosewood Beijing the service started before we were through the airport. A man met us at the end of the gangway holding a sign, took our hand luggage, and walked us through every checkpoint without us saying a word; we had our bags and were in the car in under twenty minutes. Then we checked in inside our own suite and never saw the lobby. The building is 22 floors of floor-to-ceiling glass in the Central Business District, facing the CCTV headquarters across the road, which looks like a pair of very modern pants. Getting anywhere else is the hard part — a mile can take 45 minutes, and the subway was so crowded that we watched people cram themselves in, turned around, and took a cab.