Eau Palm Beach’s website sells a dream. One look and you’re ready to grab your overnight bag, roll into traffic, and get pampered like a Real Housewife of New York City.
This was a girls’ getaway. Three fabulous women ready to indulge, recharge, and exhale. I’ve traveled in luxury before. This wasn’t my first time booking a high-end resort. I knew exactly what to expect and what to demand.
So yes, I made the calls. Asked the right questions. Confirmed the details. Every person with a physical disability has to. Because if something’s wrong when we arrive, it’s not just a hiccup. It’s a full derailment.
We were ready.
But Eau Palm Beach wasn’t.
The Valet Debacle: A Warning Wrapped in Politeness
Before I even had a room key in hand, I was already navigating obstacles and not the kind my wheelchair was built for. The valet service, which should have been the smoothest part of arriving at a luxury resort, became the first warning that something wasn’t right.
When I arrived at Eau Palm Beach, I expected ease. I had already told them I use a wheelchair, drive with hand controls, and travel with a wheelchair topper. They knew. I made sure they did.
So when staff insisted I couldn’t park my car and told me to hand over my keys to someone who didn’t know how it worked? Absolutely not. My car is my independence. One wrong move and I’m stranded.
Their solution was the garage. But the only way out was a steep hill. Unless my friend was ready to go full bodybuilder and push me up that incline, it wasn’t going to happen.
That’s not luxury.
Eventually, a woman named Estrella came outside to talk with us. I didn’t know her role, but I could tell she was trying. She suggested I leave the car out front, give them the keys, and they’d call me if it needed to be moved. Fine. Not ideal, but we agreed.
Still, that’s not how any guest — disabled or not — should begin a luxury weekend. I didn’t spend time calling ahead and confirming logistics just to arrive and be treated like a surprise.
The Room Situation: Red Flag #2
Entering into the first room was like rolling into a bait-and-switch. My two friends went silent. We traded looks, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. No one wanted to speak the obvious. The room wasn’t accessible. Not even close. And worse, it didn’t match the luxury price point we had prepaid. (Thank you, Melissa for speaking up.)
They knew a wheelchair user was arriving. That wasn’t the surprise. I was. The room screamed, You weren’t the guest we had in mind. Even my non-disabled friends said, “This can’t be the room. Not for what we paid.”
No need to dramatize it. The downgrade was loud and clear.
When we asked to see other rooms, suddenly options surfaced. Better layouts. Better views. Better everything. Amazing what shows up when you trade gratitude for direct questions.
We moved. The second room finally delivered the luxury we expected from the start. And no, I wasn’t about to hand out thank-yous for being treated fairly.
I was insulted. They assumed the wheelchair meant I’d settle. That I’d roll in, nod, and accept whatever they gave me.
Wrong diva.
I’m your Latina Diva on Wheels. I’ve stayed in five-star suites. I know luxury, and I know when I’m being downgraded. This wasn’t what I booked. This wasn’t what I confirmed. This wasn’t respect.
Non-disabled guests glide into their room and get what they were promised. I had to push for mine. Accessibility shouldn’t require extra hustle.
The Pool Promised. Never Delivered
One of the biggest reasons I chose Eau Palm Beach? The ocean view and a working pool lift. I asked. They confirmed. “Yes, it works.” That pool wasn’t just a perk, it was the whole point. My splash of peace. My therapy. My escape.
But here’s the short version, and trust me, you should thank me for keeping it short. Because if you knew the whole story, you’d be rolling up to Eau with protest signs bigger than the ones at Occupy Wall Street.
We arrived. We got to the pool. And… nothing.
Not a single staff member knew how to operate the lift. After a string of blank stares and radio calls, someone finally appeared, only to tell us the truth: the battery was dead. The lift didn’t work.
So no, I never got my swim.
And while the jacuzzi itself was working, the lift that brings wheelchair users up to that level? Out of order too. Honestly, thank goodness. That thing looked like it hadn’t passed a safety check since flip phones were cool.
Luxury isn’t just chandeliers and champagne. If you offer accessibility, you better maintain it, train for it, and make it safe. Promises don’t float. And when you charge luxury rates, there’s no excuse for sinking standards.
I Followed Up with Eau Palm Beach Resort
As the founder of AudacityMagazine.com, I decided to give Eau Palm Beach one more chance. I sent an email to the hotel. I hadn’t published anything yet because I waited to see the promised changes. I was clear, respectful, and professional. I even said they could comment if they wanted to. I gave them the opportunity.
So what did the General Manager, Tim Nardi, do when I called?
He hung up on me.
So What Now?
This isn’t revenge. This is about calling things what they are. If your resort takes full payment from guests with physical disabilities, then those guests deserve the full experience. And when something goes wrong, you fix it.
I Still Believe in Hospitality
I still believe Eau Palm Beach has the potential to lead in accessible luxury. I want to recommend it. But until I can use the pool like every other guest, I won’t. Luxury belongs to all of us, not just the non-disabled. Yes, there were good moments. But if Eau Palm Beach wants to hear about them, they know where to find me.
I won’t hang up.
That’s their move.
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