I had been looking forward to my stay on the Concierge level of the Venezia Tower of The Venetian for a long, long time. I wish I had done more research. Ultimately, a hotel with thousands of rooms simply cannot deliver the service that I expected, and this was disappointing. Parts of the stay were lovely, and other parts, not so much. I will say that the concierge level reception room for breakfast and cocktails in the afternoons was very nice, and definitely the best part of our stay. The check-in process was easy, and I was permitted to check in over 2 hours early. We received the room we'd booked, with an amazing view of the Strip. However, right away I needed to call maintenance since the air conditioning was not working in the room (they quickly dispatched someone to replace the filter, which helped quite a bit), and housekeeping since there was dirt in the bedroom and living room areas. I admit I was surprised at this, and disappointed when the housekeeper's response was "We are very busy today." Too busy to clean the room? Yuck.
The hotel itself is huge. . .plan for a lot of walking. The shops are ok. I liked the shops at Fashion Center across the street and the shops next door at Wynn better. The gondola is a nice gimmick, and some of the gondoliers are quite talented.
The biggest disappointment, however, was the overwhelming smoke in the casino and throughout the hotel. Clearly The Venetian has not invested in the filtering system that other hotels (like MGM Grand and The Bellagio) have. . .every time I walked back to my room I smelled like an ashtray. This might not bother some. . .but it certainly bothered me. Even the couple of non-smoking tables are a joke since they are right next to smoking tables. . .this definitely limited our enjoyment of the hotel, as did the fact that people can smoke in the shopping area, too.
Finally, I was quite surprised that NO ONE at the valet offered to (a) help or (b) call for help when our rental car had a flat tire (which the valet who brought the car didn't even notice!). Instead, they all stood around and watched, while a man in his 50s (a guest) had to offer to help my father (in his 70s) change the tire. This was absolutely inexcusable, and pretty much summed up the weekend.
There is no heart here. . .only smoke and mirrors.