Hilton Garden Downtown, 250 Forbes Avenue, Pittsburgh

Little has been said about the Hilton Garden Downtown.

Located close to Market Square, the HGD is perfectly located, certainly for Pizzaiolo Prima, arguably the best restaurant in town.

Room 513, Hilton Garden Downtown

When I first woke up on Sunday 15 May I was feeling jet-lagged and not in a good place. I had a headache over one eye, I was feeling awful and it wasn't long before I ended up at the front desk wondering what to do and what to eat. There were wrapped chocolate bars and I needed them badly, I needed something to liven me up, revive me and, of course, I needed tea, English Breakfast, in a large mug. 

There was nobody around and as I peered out at the street from the hotel lobby I spotted a man carrying a paper cup of something, possibly tea, possibly coffee, but it meant that there was a store of some kind nearby. When a man appeared behind the counter at the reception desk I bought the chocolate bars and he told me there was a Dunkin' Donuts and a Starbucks a short walk away, both on the square. "But we'll have fresh coffee and baked goods here shortly," he added.  I couldn't wait for that, I headed out, turned left and then left again when I reached the square and there was the Starbucks. I ordered my tea and a small snack and sat there slowly sipping the tea, gently reviving myself before heading back to the hotel. And when I got back, there were wrapped pastries and a huge cannister of coffee. I might have had some of my tea left, I can't remember, but I didn't bother with the coffee and simply took a couple of cinnamon pastries. The revival process was in full swing, but I still felt awful.

The hotel room was pretty standard, although it did have two double beds. There was a flat screen television and a coffee machine that I couldn't understand, a complicated telephone on the bedside table, an armchair and a small, round glass table. The bathroom worked and that's always the main thing. The shower was perfect. It was easy to control and I soon broke into a routine: clean teeth, shave, jump in the shower and then get changed and ready for breakfast downstairs. All week I've been having the same breakfast: Strawberry Parfait, which is basically granola, sliced strawberries and blueberries under which could be found yoghurt, the flavour of which varied daily. The staff in the breakfast room were great, they were friendly and helpful and did a great job. Today, for example, they'd run out of yoghurt, meaning I couldn't have my Strawberry Parfait, but the man went out of his way and got me some yoghurt and all was well. Something else that's good about the breakfast is the selection of teas. They were all Bigelow's tea and my favourite flavour was 'Constant Comment', which kind of sums me up. It's their first and most famous blend flavoured with a secret recipe of orange rind and sweet spice and I loved it; so much so that I plan to order some online when I get home.

Funicular railway to Mt. Washington

That's really been my sole experience of the hotel. I haven't been to the gym or the business centre and I've been in bed around 7pm every night, getting over 10 hours' sleep and feeling great the next morning, especially when I remembered it was time for breakfast. 

The hotel's close proximity to Market Square is excellent and there's nothing better than spending an hour or two at Pizzaiolo Prima and then taking the short stroll back to the Hilton Garden round the corner. The view out of my hotel window is a cityscape, which is only to be expected in an American hotel in the city and I've grown accustomed to living here this past week. While I'm really looking forward to going home, a part of me will miss my room until it disappears into the ether of lost memories.

If there is a downside, the housekeeping guys haven't cleaned my room since I arrived, it's policy. Unless I ask for clean sheets I won't get them, which is fine, although, when I open the door I always hope that the bed has been made and the bathroom is clean – that's half the fun of staying in a hotel – but all week everything has been as I left it and I'm not a messy person, fortunately. I'm not complaining either, but it is rather odd that they're not doing it.

Tomorrow (Friday) is my last breakfast and then I fly home to the UK. I'm lying in a little and won't be down there until 8am, but I plan to enjoy the meal as I have done all week.

After Thursday's lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe Station Square (the food's okay here, I had Cedar Plank Salmon with mashed potato and green beans) we walked to Mount Washington, or rather I hobbled there thanks to the aforementioned lateral foot pain caused, according to the internet, by walking excessive distances in the wrong shoes. I've been in pain, but eventually I bought some Nurofen from the CVS across the street and things have improved somewhat. The weather was hot most of the afternoon and when we reached Mount Washington (using the funicular railway to reach the top) we stopped at the Coal Hill Steakhouse for a light snack while admiring the view of Pittsburgh on offer. Mozzarella cheese sticks and breaded chicken goujons with fries were fine as a snack while looking down on the city. All very chilled out. We went back to the hotel for about an hour and then headed out to find something to eat. We found a Mexican restaurant, Condado, which served its purpose (see previous post for more details).

Pittsburgh from the top of Mount Washington

It is now Friday morning, the day of departure, and, as always, I've grown fond of my hotel room, which has been my home for the past week. I'll miss the routine of early nights and I'll miss my Strawberry Parfait breakfasts, not forgetting Bigelow's 'Constant Comment' black tea. I keep thinking it's Constant Gardener, but that was a movie. Today the travelling resumes: we fly to New York then have a five-hour stop-over at JFK before flying across the Atlantic to the UK. I think we get home around 0745hrs, something like that. Right now, it's time for that last breakfast.

Room 513, Hilton Garden Downtown

Last night I had some vivid dreams and one involved meeting my uncle Jack and uncle David who were fixing something inside a car. They both looked really young, if that makes sense. My uncle David had gleaming, jet black, shoulder-length hair and my uncle Jack short, lighter hair and was unshaven. Why I note these details I don't know. The dream didn't involve talking to them, they never acknowledged my presence, but I was just there, peering through the passenger side window and trying to understand what they were doing. For some reason I'd taken a stroll to Poulton Avenue where they live and the car was outside David's house, that was the dream. I felt like calling mum to tell her for some reason, but figured it would be a bit strange calling her just to say I'd had a dream about her brothers.