Almost a repost
I had to stay at my friend's house after the most disastrous party ever. It stank like nothing else on Earth.
party description
(Marmite Omelette ...but I feel better having screamed, don't you?, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 9:03, Reply)

Jupiter Hotel
The Jupiter Hotel in Portland is a renovated motel that has aspirations of being hip and stylish. Actually it mostly succeeds at this--the rooms were miniscule but nicely furnished and clean, and two rooms of the place had been converted into an adult toy store and a tattoo parlor. The problem is that, in being hip and stylish, it also doubles as a nightclub.

Now, a nightclub with a hotel is a great idea--you dance and drink until you can can't walk, then crawl to the reception desk and get a room for the night. But a hotel with a nightclub is a terrible idea, especially when you play loud techno until 3:00 AM. Granted it's mostly muffled, but still slightly audible in the rooms. But that's not that bad, until the hotel decides that, to be extra hip and stylish, they're going to throw a fucking outdoor party in the courtyard directly outside the rooms, complete with obscenely loud P.A., bad DJs, and drunken screaming partygoers.

I'm not exaggerating when I say the music was loud in the rooms. Not audible, not annoying, actually "I wouldn't play music this loud if I was actually listening to it" loud. Until 3:30 in the morning. Naturally, when I called the desk they lied about how long it was going to go on for.

I'm sorry, Jupiter Hotel, you can be an outdoor club or you can be a hotel, but for fuck's sake, you can't be both. Don't go there if you fancy a night's sleep.
(+3 Baroque Vambrace of Icthyology, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 6:16, Reply)

Bangladesh
The Bunderbans are in the north east of Bangladesh- probably the best place to head in the country because there's some mountains. With the mountains come 1) scenery and 2) a blissful reduction in population density. My chum John and I were staying at a hotel with nothing much to do. It being New Year, the owner of the neighbouring hotel invited us (the only foreigners in the region) to a shebang at his place.

Bangladesh is a dry country, so the party was to be local style entertainments, but we weren't prepared for a chappie playing two notes on his electric bass guitar, another chappie thumping a tambourine and a third chappie wailing into a mic. We perched a chappati and some sloppy curry on our knees and sat thinking about how much we really missed the wonderful things about England, like Croydon.

The curry was a bit horrible, so we thought we'd wash it down with some of the coke we'd seen in a fridge. John innocently asked "Any chance of a drink?" sparking a most satisfactory change in our host. He gave a cartoon style shifty glimpse left and right and mumbled "meet me downstairs in ten minutes".

"Hello," we thought, "something is afoot!"

Sure enough when we head there a collection of unlikely looking wallahs were in the basement, illuminated by a bare bulb, passing around bottles of mineral water. They courteously welcomed their pale faced new friends and bade us join them. A sniff of the bottle made the seed of hope planted in our bosom burst forth into joyous bloom. Hurrah! Illegal Moonshine!

What made the situation infinitely more satisfactory was that our drinking buddies consisted of the judge, police chief, editor of the local newspaper and other sundry nibs. They were hiding from their constituents with a couple of backpackers, drinking hooch.

Sorry, just realised that wasn't particularly relevant to the qotw, so might as well add that the hotel owner gave us scabies.

Apologies for length and all.
(I grew it myself, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 5:40, Reply)

On my honeymoon, no less
For reasons which will become apparent, I could just about fill this this myself, so I'll restrict myself to the latest episode...
In an attempt to combine work with pleasure, the new wife and I left balmy Sydney last November to honeymoon in the UK and wound up at an utterly beautiful hotel in Edinburgh for a week.
A five star place, it had a great cocktail bar, beautiful rooms was right in the heart of the New Town area, a fantastic restaurant etc etc.
Seriously toffy stuff, this was to be the highlight of a trip that would, by necessity, see us at a few hotels nowhere near as good.
The highlight of the trip? It most certainly was, but not for those reasons.
About three days in we're asleep in bed and the bedroom door opens, flooding the room with light.
Neither of us are heavy sleepers so we spring up in bed to see (drumroll please) a naked fat elderly man standing there.
Both of us start screaming: "Getthefuckoutgetoutoutfuckoff!!!" as loud as we can, I jump out of bed to commit bodily harm, the guy screams, puts his hands over his todger and backs into the corridor.
I slam the door in his face and after getting my breath back, phone the front desk.
"What the fuck is going on here? Some old guy with no clothes on just walked into our room! How the fuck did he get a key? I want the manager up here now!" etc etc.
A few minutes later the manager calls back.
It seems an elderly confused German tourist staying at the hotel had wandered into the corridor in the night, thinking it was the bathroom, the door had shut behind him and he'd somehow pushed his way into our room hoping it was the way back in.
The night manager had just found him trying to use a palm leaf to hide his shame in the foyer.
A minute after that I heard the elevator ding and had the extreme pleasure of watching him escorted - still naked - past our peephole back to his room.
The manager came back, apologised profusely, explained the doors sometimes don't close properly unless they're virtually slammed, apologised again and left.
Eventually, we went back to sleep.
The next morning at breakfast I saw the naked old guy as he sat alone looking utterly defiant, ate quietly and departed.
The staff could barely contain themselves... they'd all seen the CCTV footage.
It's hard to say it's the worst hotel experience I've had, but it's no doubt in the top five the hotel's ever had... I'm a journalist and spend a bit of time as a travel writer. I was at the hotel to review it.
Apologies for length, but then again it was my honeymoon.
( difficultchild, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 4:59, Reply)