The National Rating: 4.0 Pearls

South Beach, Miami, Florida

Hotel staff

On arrival, no one opened the door for me, no one helped with my bags, and the porters looked the other way while I rolled my suitcase up the stairs (and painfully over another reporter's toe). They did, however, volunteer to pose for some photos, if merely to flirt with the photographer.

The concierge was great. He knew all that Miami had to offer and was willing to set up reservations for me at the Ola restaurant in the Sanctuary hotel (a few blocks away).

All-in-all, the service was polite, but fundamentally lacking. When the wireless in my room didn't work, they just transferred the call to their provider, Lodgenet. After waiting on hold with Lodgenet for 10 minutes, listening to smooth jazz static, I just hung up and tried to figure out the hardwired network for myself.

At the pool, it took about 40 minutes before someone asked if I needed a drink (or even a towel). My impromptu iced coffee came quickly, but they just poured three and a half shots of espresso over ice -- not my request. It took about six hours before my eyeballs returned to their sockets.

The only folks eager to please, it seems, were the housekeeping staff members, who opened the door to my room (without knocking) at 8:30 a.m., 9:45 a.m., and again at 10:20 a.m.

View on a Larger Map

On the beach, right beside the super-chic big wigs -- the Delano, the Shore Club, the Sagamore, and so on. Great (expensive) food, shopping, and drinking are ample on Collins Avenue and Lincoln Road, but I took more advantage of the 24-hour Walgreen's on the corner.

The Tower City View Room

Though the big, billowing beds are plush and luxurious (and, incidentally, occupy about 70 percent of the space), the rooms are in desperate need of a redo.

The "Internet TV" and the cool-looking PlayStation interactive gaming controller didn't work (nor did anyone at the front desk expect them to).

The Wi-Fi wasn't connecting, so I did all of my work at the vanity/desk space, on a metal chair about as comfortable as something you'd find bolted to the floor of a McDonald's.

The flat-panel TV (from the bygone moment in 2005 when they were taking off) was the same height as my bed, so my feet blocked Larry King's head (which wasn't necessarily a bad thing).

The pool

Though not on-par with some of the mega-resorts, I didn't feel terribly ripped off by the $12 resort fee.

The pools were beautiful -- a bright "Leisure pool" and the big boy, a 205-feet "Infinity pool" set inside a deeply shaded palm tree garden. Though the pools were flanked on either side with Astroturf, I imagine this was just to cut down on muddy traffic. For a better impression of the pool, check out Google's satellite view of the hotel and see how the National's pool dwarfs its neighbors. All in all, a serene landscape, even with DJ iPod Shuffle mistakenly clipping in some death metal.

The pool scene was fundamentally "chill," with just a few belly-burned Convention Center blokes eyeing the bikini bottoms, plastic beer cups in hand. Otherwise, the atmosphere was relaxed, like when people are just hanging out in the kitchen after a house party.

The basement level fitness room was large and had modern equipment. The National also offers morning yoga classes every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

The fresh, serene, warm feeling of the lobby deadened a bit when I got to my room. I found yellow stains in the tub and black crusts of who-knows-what muck in the sink. Still, the whole room smelled like Dial soap.

The rest of the property, including the pool, was beautifully maintained.