The Great Hospitality Collapse, or How the Hotelier's Purse Grew Dreadfully Light

The Great Hospitality Collapse, or How the Hotelier's Purse Grew Dreadfully Light

Pray, observe the tragicomedy currently unfolding in the realm of hospitality! It appears that the gentlemen of the hotel trade, who but yesterday imagined themselves the masters of an eternal gold mine, are now discovering that the well has run dry. According to the latest intelligence from the counting-houses, the number of liquidated hotels and sanatoriums has soared by a staggering 21.8 per centum in the first half of the year.

Indeed, some 2,130 organizations have vanished into the ether, leaving behind nothing but dusty ledgers and the echoes of vanished guests. One can almost envision the scene: a plump merchant, perhaps a certain Mr. P., staring in horror at his promissory notes, his face turning the colour of a spoiled oyster as he realizes that his grand 'Joint-Stock Enterprise' is now worth less than a single farthing!

While the number of new ventures has dwindled by some 5.6 per centum, the overall industry persists in a state of lethargic growth, though the spirit of optimism has quite departed. The cause of this malaise? A most sudden cooling of desire among the travelling classes. The domestic appetite for excursions has waned, and the foreign traveller—that most precious source of profit—has vanished, frightened away by the tumultuous conflicts in the East, which have rendered the skies impassable.

In the great metropolis of Moscow, the situation is positively ghastly for those who fancy themselves 'luxury' providers. The occupancy of these opulent palaces has plummeted by 8 per centum, leaving them at a dismal 42 per centum. One imagines the grand chandeliers flickering over empty corridors, while the manager, a professional rogue of the first water, frantically polishes the silver in hopes of attracting a single stray soul with a heavy purse.

Furthermore, the city has seen a regrettable decline in those grand political and commercial assemblies that once brought a flood of wealthy businessmen to the capital. The stream of business travellers has dried up by 12 per centum, leaving the hoteliers to contemplate the void in their coffers.

Alas, this is but a continuation of a most wretched trend! For it was recently noted that the beginning of the year was the most calamitous period for the restaurant trade in a quarter-century. It seems the appetite for fine dining and lavish lodging has been replaced by a most prudent—or perhaps desperate—frugality. A truly splendid time to be a creditor, but a nightmare for any gentleman whose sole ambition was to squeeze every single penny from a weary traveller!