On a roll to Atlantic City
Stylish express train from NYC flashes into town, which has lost lots of its tackiness, some of its customers
ATLANTIC CITY, N.J. — Luggage carts groaned under mounds of suitcases at the swanky Trump Taj Mahal Casino & Resort. The lobby buzzed with activity. On the gaming floor, oodles of customers tried their hands at lady luck.
“Isn’t there a recession?” I thought to myself.
(ACCVA photo)
STAYING THERE:
• The Water Club, a Signature Hotel by Borgata: Posh, non-gaming hotel adjacent to the Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa, has 800 guest rooms and suites. Rates start at $219; (800) 800-8817, thewaterclubatborgata.com.
• The Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa is the hotel of choice for many, with 2,000 rooms and 61,000 square feet of gaming space. Rates start at $169; (866) 692-6742, www.theborgata.com.
• The Chelsea is a casually luxurious 20-story property and the first non-gaming hotel to open on the Boardwalk since the 1960s. The Annex side features retro motel rooms and has rates starting at $69. Rates at the rest of the hotel begin at $119; (800) 548-3030, thechelsea-ac.com.
MORE INFO: Atlantic City Convention & Visitors Authority, (888) 228-4748, atlanticcitynj.com.
I expected to find a ghost town earlier this year when I took the new Atlantic City Express Service (ACES) train from New York City’s Penn Station to the East Coast’s gaming capital. But this was a Saturday afternoon and business, despite the economy, is still somewhat brisk here on weekends. Weekdays, however, are another matter.
The February launch of ACES’ 2œ-hour train service from Manhattan couldn’t have been worse timing. For three years I had heard about a train that would whisk travelers from New York to Atlantic City, a perfect one- or two-day getaway from the Big Apple for residents and visitors alike. And for three years, I waited.
For a non-car owner like myself and many other Manhattanites, my options for reaching the country’s No. 2 gambling destination from the city were limited. Renting a car and driving was too expensive, and the risk of getting caught in horrific Garden State Parkway traffic — especially in summer — was too great. Hiring a limo was even more expensive and you still have the traffic nightmares. Another unattractive option: taking a cheap bus with a motley crew that ranges from little old women with purses full of nickels to loud singles barely old enough to drink and shady-looking professional gamblers on a first-name basis with every dealer.
The double-decker ACES train, with its comfy leather seats and snack bars in each of the four cars, was a welcome and much-needed, stress-free alternative. But the debut of the long-awaited rail service came at a time when more than half of the casinos in the city whose slogan reads “Atlantic City — always turned on” could have trouble paying their electricity bills.
Four of the city’s 11 casinos — three of which bear real estate mogul Donald Trump’s name — recently filed for bankruptcy. Pending court approval, Trump will spend $100 million this month to buy back the casinos. In June, a bankruptcy court judge approved the $200 million sale of the Tropicana Casino & Resort to a group led by billionaire Carl Icahn.
Boom, not bankruptcy, was the buzzword around here not too long ago. That’s when Atlantic City was gearing up to introduce the Super Casinos, Las Vegas-style gambling venues with luxury hotel rooms, theaters, spas, fine restaurants and retail shops. Now, plans for three of the mega-casinos are on hold indefinitely and interior construction has ground to a halt on another.
Instead of being all dressed up and nowhere to go, it’s as if Atlantic City is all spruced up and has no one to come. Two years ago gamblers began seeking their fix elsewhere in New Jersey or Maryland, Pennsylvania or New York. In 2008, the gaming halls here took in $4.55 billion, down from $4.92 billion in 2007 and a record $5.22 billion in 2006.
But travelers looking for more of a Las Vegas-type experience won’t find the array of glitzy options at the other East Coast gambling venues.
Despite the economy, Atlantic City still seduces with its offerings of luxurious accommodations, world-class spas, upscale and outlet shopping, celebrity chef-owned restaurants, pulsating nightclubs and live entertainment from people you want to see and hear.
Once shunned for its tackiness and seediness, the city began its Eliza Doolittle transformation several years ago. Gone is the purple carpet and many of the minarets that adorned the interior of The Donald’s Liberace-esque Taj Mahal, which opened in 1990. Today’s Taj Mahal features a spanking new Chairman Tower, made up of 39 floors of contemporary rooms and well-appointed suites.
Harrah’s unveiled the final phase of its $550 million upgrade and expansion last summer. High rollers can opt for one of the eight super-suites, including two Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa Suites, in the new Waterfront Tower. At 44 stories, Harrah’s is the city’s tallest hotel casino and New Jersey’s second-tallest building. Regardless of budget, there’s something fresh for everyone.
The city’s real lodging gem is the non-gaming Water Club. The stylish, $400 million property opened last year and adjoins its sister property. Two years ago I stayed at the popular Borgata Hotel and wasn’t bowled over by my basic room. The Borgata’s Water Club, however, is on a different level. I stepped off the elevator on the 36th floor of the V.I.P. tower, clutching the complimentary glass of champagne I received upon check-in, and into one of the chicest hotel rooms I’ve ever stayed in.
I would have been happy never to leave the room. But dinner called. I joined two friends at Mina’s Seablue in the hotel. We thought about ignoring the economic downturn and splurging on the $395 Iranian golden osetra caviar but opted instead for the pot pie, full of succulent lobster, seasonal vegetables and truffled lobster cream.
Then it was time for a little evening action that didn’t involve dice, cards or a slot. I said sayonara to my two friends and headed to the city’s hottest spot, the Pool at Harrah’s, where I had promised to meet another friend and her boyfriend.
I found them already camped out in one of the 12 cabanas, which came with a Sony flat screen and a tanned waitress dressed in a skimpy black bikini and flip-flops. (It might have been below freezing outside but inside the Pool, it remains 82 degrees year-round.)
High-heeled, cleavage-barring women in short dresses or skintight pants mingled and danced with the men around the pool. The guy getting the most action was a balding, shirtless senior citizen with a gold medallion resting above his protruding belly. For some reason he attracted plenty of ladies, who took turns taking photos with him after he finished his swim. I asked an employee if Mr. Playboy was some kind of fixture at the Pool but was told no. I guess some guys just have all the luck.
With a 9:30 a.m. spa appointment, I called it a night around 1 a.m. Plus, I couldn’t wait to get back to my fabulous room.
The next morning I ordered breakfast in bed.
“Is anyone up yet?” I asked my server as he poured hot water over my fresh tea leaves.
“On this [V.I.P.] side, yes,” he replied. “On the other side, no. They’re partiers.”
I devoured my heavenly pastries, sampled all of the bathroom’s shower heads and headed off to paradise. The Water Club’s Immersion Spa, an oasis that sits on the 32nd and 33rd floors, offers spectacular ocean and skyline views. Not only was my Balinese massage 80 minutes of sheer bliss, but being able to relax poolside while overlooking the boats was ideal.
I was tempted to go to the Pier Shops at Caesars for lunch at Stephen Starr’s Buddakan (his New York outpost is one of my faves) but remembered that there’s a recession. I didn’t even want to walk by the boutiques. Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Tiffany and Hugo Boss would have to wait for another time. (Bargain hunters flock to the Atlantic City Outlets, a $76 million multi-block retail outlet.)
Too bad Chelsea Prime, Starr’s steakhouse reminiscent of 1940s Atlantic City, wasn’t open for lunch. But his diner-inspired Teplitzky’s restaurant was. I’m a burger aficionado and was wowed by my twin cheeseburgers and french fries that were cooked to perfection.
Both restaurants are in the Chelsea, a cool, funky, non-gaming hotel that opened last summer near the end of the famed Boardwalk.
I vowed to return to Atlantic City this summer to check out the Chelsea’s Fifth Floor, which I hear is quite happening at night, and to dig into some steak at Chelsea Prime.
Thanks to ACES, I can come back with extra spending money and no worries about the traffic headed to the Jersey shore.
Kelly Carter recently moved out of Manhattan and is now a Los Angeles-based free-lance writer.