The Baguio Country Club

When I'm in Baguio I normally stay at the Manor Hotel, Camp John Hay, but they're fully booked and didn't get my reservation in time. It's my own fault; I emailed someone asking them to book instead of phoning the hotel in person. A good thing, methinks, that I no longer email a request to someone else to book my driver; I do that in person. Not having a reservation at the hotel is one thing; being left at Manila Airport waiting for a driver who doesn't arrive because he didn't know he's wanted is another thing entirely.

So I'm staying, for the nonce, at the Baguio Country Club (BCC). A nice enough place but I thought places like this had disappeared around about the time Queen Victoria died (as it happens this place was founded 4 years after Her Majesty passed away).

I'm a 'guest' and they never let me forget that I'm a humble subsidiser of the 'members'. I can be standing in line and a 'member' appears and suddenly I get preempted. Now I know how a lower priority thread feels!

Even booking in here was frustrating. As aforementioned, I thought I had a reservation at the Manor so up there I fronted. Shrugs and profuse apologies; no room for me tonight. They suggested I try BCC. So over there I go and they ask me if I have a reservation. So far as I knew I didn't. Ah, do I have a membership? Nope! Thinking this was a polite fiction rather like the fiction that goes with getting a drink in the City of Richardson, Texas, I offered to join. Indulgent smiles but no dice. To become a member probably involves being nominated by an existing member and not being blackballed. So with the polite shrugs and apologies aforementioned they ushered me out the door just as my driver disappeared into the night. But I'll give them their due, they didn't leave me there to wonder what I was to do next; they rang the gate and turned my driver back!

Then came a confusing series of conversations held mostly in Tagalog between my driver, his boss and the people here, partly on the phone, where it was established that I had in fact been booked into here. This is where the polite fiction returns. My 'member' sponsor is in fact the young lady working behind the counter. When my reservation at the Manor proved unobtainable a reservation was made for me here but no one told me so the people here thought I was an unexpected supplicant. Now I very much doubt the young lady working behind the counter is in fact a 'member'. I might be wrong but it sure feels like chicanery.

Chicanery or not I actually like the place. The showers have reasonable pressure and the hot water didn't run out. The food is about a hundred times better. The room is nicer and there isn't an insane pianist at the bar belting out muzak favourites at 10 decibels too loud! On the other hand, they don't have wireless internet but given the cost and the difficulty of signing up for it at the Manor it hardly matters.

They both have Gato Negro Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile as the house red wine but it's actually a pretty nice drop for the price.

I leave you with two quotes, both from the voluminous hotel guide in the room. Every hotel has one of these; usually a compendium of local advertisements, instructions on using the phone, church locations and the room service menu. This one is more thorough than most; it has a set of house rules. I like this one!

'Carrying of firearms:

The carrying of firearms within the Club premises is limited to the Club security guards and Presidential Detail accompanying the President and the Vice-President of the Philippines and those authorised by the Board of Directors.'

I suppose that's one way to advertise the extent of one's clientele! Doubtless there's some restriction on saying 'President Gloria Macopagal Arroyo is a member' so they snuck it into the house rules.

The other quote is even better. It goes...

'Should you wish to take this compendium as a souvenir, please call the Housekeeping for a new copy at a cost of Three Thousand Pesos (Php 3,000.00) only. Thank you.'

I think I have better things to spend US$60 on!