Last weekend, we took a last-minute city break to Portland, OR, to do some back-to-school shopping. We stayed at the Embassy Suites at Washington Square—a favorite among Hilton hotels. We love this chain because it almost always has rooms that fit our group. Plus, the large buffet breakfast, made-to-order omelets, and the manager’s evening reception with free glasses of wine make the stay even better!
Traffic jam at the elevators
We stayed at the hotel for two nights, and our room was on the sixth floor—or at least, the “sixth floor” by American standards. As I looked up from the open atrium, I instinctively started counting. Something felt off. The sixth floor was really only the fifth floor. I had a strange moment where my sense of order wavered—how had I come to count floors this way?
In Europe, the ground floor is zero, so a sixth-floor room would require climbing six flights of stairs. But in America, the ground floor is one, meaning we only had to climb five flights to reach the sixth floor. Suddenly, it felt like the American system had given us a discount on stair climbing. But could we really take credit for walking up six floors when it was technically only five?
Meanwhile, my daughter sat across the table, deep in debate with my husband about whether the building had eight or nine floors. His argument? He saw a “9” in the elevator. Her argument? She counted the floors from the ground up and only came up with eight. She was perplexed—why would the elevator stop at a ninth floor when the building only had eight?
Why did any of this matter? Well, because this hotel—which claimed to have nine floors but only seemed to have eight—was served by just two elevators. Normally, there were three, but one had been out of commission for a while. The result? A permanent elevator traffic jam. Whether people were going up or down, there was always an impatient crowd gathered, waiting… and waiting… and waiting.
At least realizing the “sixth floor” only required five flights of stairs made us feel better. In Europe, we’d have had to climb six—so by American logic, we got a one-flight discount. Small wins, right?
There's no room on this elevator, he says
On my final morning at the hotel, the elevators were especially busy. People, dogs, and empty luggage carts filled the space in both directions. Skipping an elevator meant adding at least another 10 minutes to the wait. As we debated stairs vs. elevator, one arrived at our floor.
All five of us got on—it seemed like there was plenty of room. The other passengers groaned as the elevator stopped at every floor. One floor down, the doors opened to a group of waiting guests, who hesitated, uncertain if there was space for them. I gestured for them to hop on—there was plenty of room (from my perspective).
The next floor, the same thing happened. But before I could encourage the waiting passengers to join us, a man standing with lots of space around him declared to the crowd:
“This elevator is full!”
The others obliged without question, continuing to wait. I must have looked confused because the man turned to me and said, “The elevator is only supposed to carry five people.”
Now I was really puzzled. This was a large commercial elevator—one of only two for the entire hotel. There was no posted capacity limit, and as far as I could tell, it wasn’t even half full as there was open space. Yet, the whole way down, the pattern continued—the elevator would stop, people would look in, and they’d be told they had to keep waiting because we were supposedly “full.”
As I stepped off, I turned to my family and said, “Only in America was that elevator full.”
At this rate, no wonder the elevators were so slow. People were waiting for empty elevators.
As far as I’m concerned, if people can squeeze in for a minute, the elevator isn’t full. And in this case? No squeezing was even required. People just might have had to stand next to each other.
We’ve crammed our family of six into European subway cars, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, just hoping to avoid a face-to-armpit situation. After years of travel, I’ve come to believe that it’s almost impossible for any space to be “too full” to fit one more body. We can always make room.
But there must have been a time when I, too, would have declared that elevator full.
What has travel done to me?!
Elevator full? Depends on the country
This otherwise ordinary experience struck me as humorous, so I decided to turn it into a post—just for fun. Because not everything has to be serious. Sometimes, culture clashes are amusing, especially when something as simple as an elevator or floor numbering can have two completely different meanings.
These moments remind me how fluid our understanding really is—how something so familiar can shift when seen through a different lens. I have to smile at the meanings we give things. Experiences shape our perspectives, turning a once “full” elevator into a “half-empty” one. They can even change how we count floors. At first, the idea that the first floor could be “zero” made no sense to me. But now? I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be.
I often hear the saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Well, I beg to differ. Travel has taught me all sorts of new tricks! And I can’t wait to see what new perspectives it brings next.
