Savoy Hotel Rating: 2.5 Pearls

South Beach, Miami, Florida

The front desk

A very friendly porter wearing a wide-brimmed safari hat grabbed my bags before I was out of the cab. It seems the hat was his own uniform choice (no one else was wearing them).

The two folks at the front desk were a bit overwhelmed because the place was booked solid by lots of young partiers and a senior citizen tour group. There were many conflicting issues at hand, and never was the demand to project one's voice so great. Still, though somewhat curt, they managed to stay polite and were more than willing to help me out with the basics (towels, location of the gym, etc.).

There is no concierge to help with restaurant picks or nearby activities.

Poolside, the two servers (who were also acting as bartenders) were literally sprinting to get margaritas out before they melted under the 90-degree sun (my Coke gave them a well-needed blender break).

View on a Larger Map

South of Fifth, technically, but the Savoy is right on the South Beach border. Though not on the stylish, swanky side of things (the nearest dining options include a TGI Friday's), everything I needed was in reasonable walking distance.

The One Bedroom Ocean Suite

Each room is "styled" (I use the term loosely) by whoever owns the timeshare (the hotel just rents out certain rooms throughout the year). I had a fun time trying to guess who could have opted for such a ridiculous look. For room 224, which had chipped, rusted silver-colored astronaut-in-a-cave furnishings, I imagined a hip car salesman with thick, gelled hair and acid-wash jeans (remember, these rooms are holding onto their authentic,1988 design) who made over his stud pad with commissions on the new hot-yellow Acura. For room 212, with blond wood, blood marble bathrooms and monochromatic blue (or just sun-faded) watercolor landscapes, I pictured an ornery elderly couple from Queens wearing matching parrot print T-shirts and thick gold jewelry.

The only common features between the rooms were sagging, threadbare beds, tiny, outdated Zenith TVs, and AC units that sounded like lawn mowers.

Still, the suites weren't bad for a budget family pick -- huge rooms with a kitchenette, pull-out sofas, and private space for parents.

The beach

Two outdoor heated pools (one with a kids-free section) in a courtyard area surrounded by lush landscaping and other hotel rooms -- impressive, but only from a distance. I could have (and, maybe, would have liked to have) built an underwater sandcastle with the amount of dirt and grime settled on the bottom.

My inspection of the fitness room (consisting of one treadmill and a core ball) was brief -- forgive me, but it smells like burnt armpit hair.

As for the restaurant (only open until 7p.m.), the cheap burgers and beer are a draw (only $20 for an imported 6-pack), but I ate under an umbrella by the pool, despite swamp-bath humidity. The constantly empty restaurant is too depressing.

Though advertised, I didn't see anything that looked like a spa. If anyone tried to rub me by the pool, I would have filed a police report.

The pool

All around, the property is falling apart, but no one seems to care.

The rooms are filthy, but I fault the Reagan-era renovation, not the housekeeping staff. Gratuitous carpet stains, extensive mold and rust in the bathrooms, damp, lumpy carpets, chipped furniture, peeling paint, broken closets, and the most distressing image -- bubbled, splintered paint on the toilet seat.

Though the pool water is clear, there is an unfortunate excess of sand at the bottom, and I never saw anyone attempt to clean it.