RARE RETREATS

New York's Carlton Arms is not for the fainthearted or the humor-free

Manhattan's artsy Carlton Arms isn't for everyone. But those who appreciate funkiness and friendship just might feel right at home.

By An Moonen, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
12:00 AM PDT, August 21, 2005

MY friend Vicky had checked into the Carlton Arms first, so on arrival I worked my way up the black lacquered stairs to the second-floor lobby and asked the manager for our room number.

"She's in 9A," he said without looking in the books. "Make a right at the end of the hallway."

I walked through hallway A, with its slanted floor and crooked walls and knocked on the door of our room.

Then I heard it: BANG!

"Hello?" I said through the door. "What are you doing?"

BANG!

"Hold on," Vicky said from inside the room.

BANG! BANG!

Puzzled, I thought to myself, "What the ?"

Vicky opened the door and said, "Hi! I don't know what that is either. It's in the bathroom."

The manager explained they were having trouble with the pipes and someone was going to check the boiler to let the air out.

The banging never went away. Every couple of hours, we were treated to a two-minute pipe concerto. It woke us up several times each night, but we didn't really care.

There is something about the Carlton Arms that makes you accept it as it is, shortcomings and all — like that comfortable pair of slippers you can't throw away, even though they're full of holes.

This hotel is not for everyone. The ambience is funky, but the building is old and tired. The décor is amusingly goofy, but the plumbing and electrical systems are a little scary, with pipes and wires on full display. The employees are charming and polite, but there's no room service and no one turns down your bed.

The supply closet is always open, and no one frowns when you take what you need. The water temperature in the showers is unpredictable — be prepared for sudden bursts of hot water — yet, it's the quirks that make this hotel special.

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