B & B Filth....York
Ran a pub in York that had a B+B attached. One random Tuesday night I checked in a reasonable lateb 30s couple, well spoken, just visiting etc...

They left in the morning, paid the bill, had breakfast, asked directions, nice and polite.

Got to the room to clean it. Oh. My word. Blood and red wine on the sheets. Broken glass in the bin, on the carpet, in the sink. A pint glass filled with piss on the nightstand, the remnants of a couple of lines of charlie next to said pint glass. And a 9 inch turd in the bath. Just beautiful.
(jameslib, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 20:03, 8 replies)

Mysore, India and Barcelona, Spain
Surprisingly the converted prison (literally - barred windows, concealed pipework, barred doors) I stayed in in Mysore does not qualify as the worst hotel of my life. There was nothing about it that made me want to stay past dawn, of course, butit was a) open and b) cheap (about £1.50 for a double 'ensuite')

No, it was the 'Hotelo Interneto Bookingo' in Barcelona - gold and marble lobby photos on the website, and indeed once we'd walked through a square of smackheads and down rancid piss alley, indeed the lobby was marble and gold. And the man at the reception was missing a part of his face and had wild eyes. And the lift was big enough for one healthy person at a time. And the absolute maze to find the room, little burnt-out flickery lights for the room numbers. The keyring was the sink plug, the window was nine inches to dark damp brickwork. Rancid little shower and no redeeming features - we decided we'd rather take our chances sleeping on the ramblas for a night than stay! Be warned - if they don't show the rooms on the website, there's a reason.
( 0nyx, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 19:55, 2 replies)

Crap Hotels I have stayed in
I've stayed in a few crap hotels, one of the worst was the Hotel Fereniki in Georgoupolis Crete. Take a look at the bed we were supposed to sleep in HERE

The hotel receptionist was incredibly rude to my 79 year old mum, my wife and me. He ranted and raved and looked like he wanted a fight! The cause of his extreme anger? The heinous crime of forgetting our room number when we were still getting over the effects of the red eye special flight out of Gatport Airwick at stupid O'clock!

Another really crap hotel is the Horus in Luxor Egypt. Dirty room, a toilet cistern that kept overflowing until I fixed it. Cups that were not washed properly on the outside - they all had a lip shaped dirty mark, so I began holding the cup with my left hand to avoid the dirty bit! The Horus was quickly renamed "The Whore's Arse" for the duration of our stay!
( Vambo, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 19:20, Reply)

Amsterdam and other tales of woe
I've literally spent the past year living in hotels so I've seen a fair amount of the buggers. None of them were bad in the sense that they weren't fit for human habitation, but I'd reccomend avoiding anything affiliated with NovoTel (cheap) and F1 (cheap and nasty).

Anywhere that demands your credit card be swiped to enter your room seems sketchy in my book (F1), and staying in some Novotels is like sleeping on a bed in your office. The one I'm in right now (the Executive Suite apparently) has a full-length glass window looking into the shower cubicle. It's creepy, esp. as all the lights give a red hue when illuminated.

Shittest hotel / B&B ever has to be the Pomona Guest House, Orkney. Carpets stank of spilt beer, Breakfast could have swam around the plate given the amount of grease it was cooked in, the entire place smelt of chips, and the whole time I was there I had a room above around 14 (no joke) hairy-arsed fishermen / riggers who were working offshore and would roll in on 3/4 hour cycles all night, pissed out their box and roaring at the top of their lungs.

Outside work, booked a hotel for a mates stag-do in Amsterdam; Got there to find my room had one window facing a brick wall, didnt allow for any movement bar Door to Bed or Bathroom (and vice versa) and generally minged. Couldn't even pass-out in the toilet properly because it was so fecking small (imagine trying to whitey in someones car boot).
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 19:13, 1 reply)

Somewhere in Hereford...
... there lies the worst hotel I ever stayed in (possibly The Green Dragon? I forget now).

Had to stay there as was working in the area and would be coming/going at odd times. But that's not important right now.

Got there and was immediately impressed by the frontage. Very impressive, the kind of thing you see on victorian postcards. Very grand. But the facade faded once I got in.

Huge place. Maybe 100 + rooms. Skeleton staff of 4 Poles. My room was located in the centre of some bizarre headfuck maze, and had two heating settings - arctic or blast furnace. Windows were painted shut, toilet bowl looked like the starting grid at silverstone and the whole room smelt vaguely of damp dog. Lovely. But as I was only there for 2 nights and it was free, thought I'd put up with it.

First night I discovered that the walls were quite thin. Not because I could hear sex noises coming through the walls, but because I could hear phone sex noises coming through the wall.

Things didn't improve - in fact they got worse. Had a "cooked" breakfast and thought nothing else of it. Until I was out in the field I was working in and began to rather spectacularly projectile vomit. Over and over again. Which would make the drive home - to Cambridge - quite interesting (it was actually - had to stop numerous times to bark at the ants on the hard shoulder, which was usually done by standing in the transit van I was driving and vomiting out of the side door, which should have been an interesting sight for passing motorists).

So thats two bad nights sleep in a smelly room, listening to some bloke wanking, followed by botulism. Nice
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 18:44, Reply)

The Beachcomber
This last New Year's, the family & I made our way down to Florida to visit various relatives. Somehow my father had picked the Beachcomber out of a list of various hotels; auntie popped in and told us it looked decent from the outside and the lobby. Very well, say we, the Beachcomber it is! It's got a view right on the oceean - what else could one ask for?

Oh how naive we were.

The first sign of danger was when we checked in and were pointed in the direction of a gate "off to the right in the parking lot". We try the first gate we find to the right of the lobby. It leads... nowhere. A couple incredibly narrow back alleys, complete with huge puddles and dripping overhangs. Delightful. We go back, continue hunting, and find another gate farther down. Our keys work here as well, but this will be the only point during the trip; we spend the next three days reaching through the bars to unhook the latch. Security is clearly a priority here.

Our room is actually more of a bungalow. Once again - how delightful! Oh hey, what's this? The parents have found hairs in their soap dish. Brother & I frown sympathetically. "Well of course you can use our bathroom - " except not only have we got a hairy soap dish as well, we've also got a DOOR. That's right. A full-on door to the outside. In our bathroom. And a huge window smacked up next to it. Said window is frosted glass, but shapes are clearly visible through it... and there are NO BLINDS. Showering in this room is an exercise in paranoia.

There is also a more normal door in the kitchen. Sadly, its lock is busted.

In the vein of further bathroom adventures, the toilets occasionally start up in the middle of the night, producing an eerie watery noise. The lights sometimes choose to flicker on and off as well, adding to the whole 'about-to-be-murdered' atmosphere.

We eat at the hotel restaurant for breakfast on our second day. It arrives cool and mediocre; when we inform the waitress, she offers the verbal equivalent of a shrug. Our bill has a tip added to it without our knowledge; when my father inquires, he is informed that "honestly, 20% is average, we really go a bit under." This is not so infuriating unless you've ever worked in a restaurant - then you know that 20% is a GOOD day, and any twunt who expects 20% every time is off their meds. (Later, my father goes back to complain, and the waitress in question tells him "I don't really care - I don't work here anymore" before heading off into the sunset.)

When we return from breakfast, the maids have been through. They have left us a whole NEW set of muddy footprints. What sweethearts!

Our sole delight at the Beachcomber is the sign outside that reads "Sammy Lee: Back From Atlantic City". We spend endless time amusing ourselves with descriptions of what Sammy Lee is probably like. We picture a vaguely greasy middle-aged man, hair slicked back and thinning, flirting with lower-class divorcees who smoke Pall Malls and have perpetual inch-thick roots in their blonde hair. We develop an entire history for Sammy Lee, and - to our great anticipation - he arrives on our last night! We march off to see the show in great excitement.

Sammy Lee is an elderly Jewish man playing "Hava Nagila".

It kind of summed up the entire experience.
(ariza, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 18:28, Reply)

Isaac's Hostel, Dublin
Not so much the hostel standard of accommodation (you get what you pay for, passable) but the truly pathetic imprecations of the Italian bloke in the corridor. At Silly O'Clock he decided that he "quite liked" the Aussie woman in the room next door to us and spent some time trying to talk his way inside while she cowered under the bedsheet - all perfectly clear to anyone in a 20m radius.

"Can ah come een?"
"No. Please go back to your room."
"Ah jus wan to be your friend..."
"Please please please go away."
"You are ver naice girl..."

Etc
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 17:27, Reply)

Worst. Hotel. Ever.
To set the scene I was once on a road trip through the States. I had just left Vegas and was on my way to San Fran which is a bit of an epic journey, especially after those late nights in Vegas.

It was getting late and thought I'd best pull over to stop myself falling asleep at the wheel. I could see a motel up ahead and when I got there the lass on the desk showed me to a room. My suspicions were first alerted when I noticed that there was no electric power here and it was lit with candles. There was nowhere else for miles though so thought I had better just make the most of it.

On finding my room it was pretty average. Nothing to write home about but there was a telephone in there where I could ask for room service. I ordered some food and a dry white but the guy said they didn't have any alcohol at all! So much for Vegas! He also said the kitchen was closed but I could join him and his wife for dinner which was pretty nice of him.

Now this is where it all got a bit mental. The dinner was pretty fancy. Laid on with silver service and the main feature being a large platter covered with one of those silver domes that's lifted off at the last minute. As expected it had a pig with an apple stuffed in its mouth underneath it but Christ! It was alive! The owner and his wife set about it with their knives, stabbing it over and over again but the thing just wouldn't die. It just writhed around spouting blood everywhere.

The last thing I remember was running for the door. The night watchman told me I couldnt leave but I socked him one accross the jaw and got out of there sharpish. Anyway, Im sure you'll agree. Pretty crazy.

Cheers
Don
(vibrating tuna, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 17:02, 6 replies)

Two of note
The 'Golf' hotel in Warwickshire somewhere, first thing to be seen when walking through the door was a pitbull chewing the plaster off a wall and also pissing on it at same time. It got renamed Borstal.

The Americana in Skegness, the radiators were at 150 degrees, I got sat in the dining room (someones lounge) next to a woman in a wheelchair who forced me into said radiator due to a complete lack of room and hence burning the skin off my elbow. She couldn't cut her food up as 'she was too shaky' so her husband did. She wasn't too fucking shaky to make a roll up half way through breakfast.

Also not a bad hotel when they arrived, however this changed. Being too pissed to get into his room, a mate of mine slept on the settee in the hall outside his room. He awoke there in the morning stark bollock naked having scratched 'FUCK OFF' into the wall with his key.
Same night a mate of mine shat his bed.
( DrPoppers Touched by his noodly appendage, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 15:17, Reply)

A fun day in Bali
I had been working hard all day, the usual holiday stuff ya know? walking along the beach checking out the womenses covertly, attacking evil beings with mallets.
Anyway, I was completely fucked by the time I realised I didn't have a place to stay that night, so I booked into the first hotel with vacancies I found. It was a particularly seedy place and looked like it hadn't been cleaned for weeks. And it appears that I was right. As soon as I got into my room I jumped onto my bed...and got a face-full of slightly fermented jizz on my face, apparently the last people didn't thow away the condom after a hard nights sexytime. Very Nice.
(snorri Snorri, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 14:49, 2 replies)

Fawlty Towers
I used to work away from home, and the company would put me up in hotels wherever I was working. Unfortunately, being big cheapskates they wouldn't book anything over 3 stars, nor anything over a certain amount a night, which generally ruled out anything even approaching decent. Over that time I stayed in many places where the wallpaper was peeling, the bed was made of bricks and half the taps in the bathroom didn't work.

The worst place, however, was a nasty little hotel in Luton. It was right next to the main railway line, and every time a train went past the entire building shook. The rooms stank of stale cigarette smoke, despite being ostensibly no smoking. There was no lift, so I had to lug my cases up four flights of stairs, and the food was pretentious but awful.

I haven't got to the worst part yet - when I came to check out at the end of the week, I came down to reception at about 7:30am - not an unreasonable time. The place looked like the opening scenes of 28 Days Later - reception was deserted, there were hoovers left in the middle of the floor as if the cleaners had been abducted by aliens, and no signs of life. A sign on the desk said "For assistance, dial [number]" with a phone next to it. So I did. Another phone, immediately next to mine, immediately began ringing. I decided to leave my key on the desk and make my exit. Which proved to be difficult as the front door was locked and bolted. As was the side door.

In fact, pretty much all the doors were locked shut. I eventually stumbled across their function room, dodging Henry Hoovers and stray chairlegs, and pushed my way behind a curtain to make my exit from the only fire exit that didn't have a great big bar across it.

I hear the place later got fined for breaking fire regulations.
(moogal has eggs, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 13:49, Reply)

I've stayed in some special places.
For starters, when I was about 7 we decided to go to Yorkshire for a week, self-catered (unusual for my cookery-avoidant mum). The "grottage", as it has been referred to ever since, was ancient and vile: hadn't been dusted in weeks, bathroom was so bad my mum had to clean it before she let any of us near it, and there were used ladies' things under the bed. Ew.

Secondly, there was the otherwise okay hotel in Fuengirola the summer before I started uni; by foolshly allowing Stalker Boy (who only won't do a leisure and tourism qualification because he thinks it's for illiterate chavs) to book the late deal, I arrived to discover, to my absolute horror, that we were sharing a room. It could only have been worse if there was a double bed, but luckily for us there were two immovable single beds. Of course, this meant every time he wanted to take a shower and get changed, I had to go out onto the slightly rickety looking balcony so as not to be confronted by his length (probably nil) and his Stay Puft physique (and made gay). Of course all the other balconies around us were populated by middle-aged couples and youngish couples with screaming kids who would have assumed the worst.

On a slightly less related note, I could write a book about my halls in Siena (otherwise known as Pervland) - which my roommate and I came to refer to as living "in the ghettoooo". You were only allowed one key between the two roommates, and any attempt to procure the spare would be met with complaining and glares, especially if your Italian was less than perfect. The staff in reception ranged from evil grumpy bitches to old men with lazy eyes to slightly less bitchy women. And there was no internets other than dodgy wifi on the roof which worked if the wind was blowing the right way (the only site I was unable to get to was b3ta).

One of my friends had her bag snatched through the window (luckily the only thing in it was her phone), and as the complex lacked security guards, the only response she got from the staff was "oh mi dispiace." (Oh, sorry about that.) This motif of window snatching continued for anyone on the ground floor who was stupid enough to leave the window open without guarding it.

The lights would randomly cease to work, and I often came home to find the building in total darkness, no explanation given (one time all that we needed to do was to open the fusebox and push a fuse back in). The shower overflowed one day, spreading water onto the floor of the entire room, and out under the door into the corridor. The washing machines erupted similarly, but more regularly, and one day the electricity for the entire complex stayed out for a good 24 hours. Again "mi dispiace". The food from the onsite restaurant gave my roommate's friends gastroenteritis and served only variations on pasta with sauces, suspect looking meat arranged on kebab skewers, and granny-stewed vegetables. Not appetising.

The only benefit to the place was the price: €200 a month, and even then I think I was overcharged. I'm still pissed I paid them about €1400 when all my friends lived in lovely places with their own internets.
( Maladicta, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 13:39, 1 reply)

The bells, the bells
As usual, I made my last minute arrangement to fly to Hamsterjam for a presentation but couldn't find any accommodation due to the annual TV/Media show that was on that week.

So I rang round until I eventually found a B&B that was fairly central and had a room.

The hotel was a tiny traditional Amsterdam house with one room on each floor and the narrowest staircase ever. So scrambled to my room on the first floor and was shown the en-suite "shower-room".

I dumped my case and made for the bars. After a very good night out I came back to find the tide was in and the sewer smell was coming back up the shower drain.

I know, I thought, I'll open the window - only to find the place was 50 yards from a church with a steeple with the loudest 'effing clock ever that bonged every 15 minutes all night - despite stuffing my ears with the whole toilet roll - so next morning I had a huge hangover, no sleep and the Amsterdam sewers to contend with.

I've always thought Amsterdam was a shite-hole since.
(Pewit does things down under, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 12:03, Reply)

I once stayed at a friend of my then girlfriends' house
in Oxford on the night before Oxfords early pub opening may day frolics
I have never been in a room so filthy. He used the floor as an ashtray, I mean months and months of ash and cigarette ends all over the floor. Pizza boxes, takeaway meals
The stench was unbelievable
Worse was to come, when I was pretending to be asleep on said blokes sofa, he got up, walked across the room, picked up a foil Chinese food container, and pissed in it.
The toilet was only across the hall
Eww
( Hankster, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 11:55, Reply)

IBIS!
Back in the day when I was a scumming first year undergrad I went and joined the Uni rowing team. This was of course because I was an inactive, slightly overweight completely uncompetitive sort (with regards to sport).
[section of rubbish removed as it has nothing to do with hotels. It was well written though.]
First year training camp we went to Dorney Lake just outside Windsor.
Yay.
27th Dec-2nd Jan in the South of England.
I'll be honest, it pissed it down. And was cold. And windy. And my knees bled.
Our hotel of choice was the Ibis hotel sitting on the edge of Heathrow.
Apart from a lack of drying facilities I don't actually remember it being that bad. Except for the food.
The one thing rowers need apart from a place to sleep a vast amount is decent tuck.
One night we got chile. Except the veggie who got some lasagne mank.
The next night we got chile. Except the couple of veggies who got some lasagne stuff.
The next night we got chile. Except for half of us who were veggies who got a nice lasagne dish.
The next night we fucked off to an all you can eat carvery and didn't tell them. Cue the waiter coming and whining at us when we came back in all full of pork and whatnot and happy "meeeeeeeeergh we have many of the meal for you!"
"What's that mate?" (some people didn't want to pass up a free meal even if it was likely to be shite)
"We do you special meal for your last night! Chile! With IceCream after!"

cnts.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 11:54, 5 replies)

Working link for jet-powered VW Beetle
www.ronpatrickstuff.com/

From the maker himself - he's mad!!
(Pewit does things down under, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 11:39, 2 replies)

Hotel Amadeus
Berlin. Booked through the interwebs, where the rooms looked nice and shiny, but suspiciously there was no outside view of the hotel. The price per day was 75 EUR, compared to 150 in the Adlon (THE Adlon 5* deluxe hotel in Berlin), so instead of taking a safe bet, I went for cheap, also because the wife said 75 per night was enough.
Arrived with my wife at the entrance of the hotel, which was next to the entrance of a sex shop the size of a major Tesco. Went upstairs - wife already a bit shocked - to enter what turns out to be the breakfast room. 3 o'clock in the afternoon, all the food was still on the buffet, unprotected.
We were to find out a mere 5 minutes later why the hotel manager immediately charged the room price to my banking card upon arrival. The room was nothing like what we had seen on the internet. The position for room maid was obviously still vacant after the old room maid had died just after the war. But at least the bed sheets had been changed once in a while, so sleeping was possible.
After this experience we have agreed to go for the upper market in future.
( RedWine President of the S.C.U.M., Sat 19 Jan 2008, 11:31, Reply)

Youth hostel, Brittany
Many moons ago I went on a school trip to Concarneau in Brittany and we stayed in a youth hostel. On first sight all seemed well - the place was clean, the beds reasonably comfortable and the breakfast very edible. However one day we'd been wandering around town in the blazing heat and when we got back to the hostel, all we wanted to do was get clean. This was rather thwarted by one of our group, an ace guy from Newcastle, coming out of the bathroom with a disgusted expression.

"There's a turd in the bath" he announced. We decided that rather than deal with excrement from an unknown source we'd rather stink. Until someone suggested that perhaps the guy had made this up in order to get the bathroom all to himself. So we went to look.

Said "turd" was indeed in the bath, a small green amphibian with warts on its back, hopping around and obviously rather bewildered by the attention it was getting.
(eesnahk, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 11:12, 2 replies)

Aberdeen - Red light district...
I stayed in this hotel in Aberdeen - I forget it's name, but I'll post it up if required.

On the outside, it looked nice, well finished, etc - until I went up to the 1st floor (and beyond).

There were no lifts that you would ACTUALLY want to use, the whole hotel smelt of Brut, the doors didn't fit, the views were all of scaffolding, the background noise was just there, the beds were old, smelly and I chose to not think about it too much, the showers were full of mould, the water temperature was erratic at best and I'm fairly sure I got bitten by bed bugs.

Oh, and it was in the red light district - whenever you walked there, you were ALWAYS asked for business - not to mention that there was always "ladies of the night" in the bar.

And let's not talk about the food.....

I stayed there a few times, but eventually refused to again as I just always felt dirty there.....

****shudders****

Edit - I've just re-looked this hotel up on www.tripadvisor.com and it hasn't improved....
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 10:21, 2 replies)

I never want to go anywhere, ever again...
...after reading some of these. Fuck that...
However I can't help but feel that staying in my house isn't exactly fun for guests either. We seem to be surrounded by loud roadworks all the time (seriously, I don't know why), so sleeping is a rarity for people on that particular side of the house (heh, I got it in the summer, its the other's turn now). Also next door to our house is a home for old nutters or something, they seem to buy cat food (haven't seen a cat near that place at all) and glare at everyone out of the windows normally, except when they are either outside yelling at cars making mad groaning Frankenstein noises through the walls, leading us to argue about who the hell was having such a furious wank at 4 in the morning. Also the one useful shower in a 15-bedroom house has some kind of 'downstairs mix-up' involving plumbing, so after showering it stinks like the sulphurous pits of hell. Yum. The other two bathrooms have mould under the cheap shitty lino our landlords refuse to replace. And with there being a lot of us, cleaning, tidying and washing up is done only on very special occasions, so its less a matter of cleaning a glass to use, more hunting one down and subduing it enough to pour liquid in. Also, if you are unlucky enough to sleep in the lounge, prepare to be covered in some kind of rash or insect bites when you wake up. We don't know what they are, we're more or less immune to it now, apart from in the summer when the cellar contained a sort of living cloud of mosquitoes. It now features a load of mosquito corpses and a dirty great padlock on the door. Despite this madness I've actually agreed to live there for another year. How nice.
(Ryuken-Kai, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 10:04, Reply)

"Don't be fooled by the price"
Is what the blurb said on the internet. It seemed like way too good a deal but, hey, everyone else out there seems to get good deals on things, why can't I?

About 5 years ago my friend and I decided to go to New York for a long weekend. I was left in charge of sorting out accommodation and as neither of us were particularly flush at the time I was looking at the cheapest accommodation possible. Namely, hostels. Now I've stayed in a fair few hostels in my time, some good, some bad and some really fucking disgusting ones. I wasn't totally enthused about the ones I was seeing on the website until I came across one that had individual rooms. Seen as the guy I was going with was a big fat bastard who was an industrial strength snorer, this seemed like an ideal option. So I booked it.

The day we arrived was actually the day before the U.S. decided that those damn Iraqi's had had it too good for too long and were planning on going over there and bombing the fuck out of their country to teach them all a good lesson. God bless those Yankee bastards.

As we were checking into the hostel the guy at the front desk, on seeing that we were British, asked us what we thought of the war.
"Ummm, imminent" was my response.
"We're going to kick their asses, YEEEHAAAAAA!!!"
"And so you should. Those bastard Iraqi's have done nothing but shit all over you poor Americans for so long, it's time you got your own back. And, say, weren't they the ones that blew up your little tower thingy's?"

We asked if we could pay in full for the four nights we were staying and he looked a bit taken aback. He asked if we were sure. I looked at my friend and he just shrugged. Why wouldn't we want to pay now? We're not planning on staying anywhere else. We probably should have realised something was wrong by the way he rubbed his hands together and the little click of his heels he did as he led us upstairs.

Four flights later he showed us through a door into a room that was about half the size of a football field. Whilst there were individual rooms within this colossus, they were more dividers made out of rizla that stopped a good two feet from where the ceiling started.

As we were shown to our papier mache cells, all I could think was "Don't be fooled by the price." Yeah, right, don't be fooled that this is anything more that a total fucking rip off.

The first night was horrendous. I was next to the communal toilets and could hear, with great clarity, every little squirt, plop and "ahhhhh, that feels so much better." With 50 other people sharing this room there were people coming and going all night. There were buzzing neon lights around the edges that were left on all night giving enough light to perform open heart surgery if that was your wont. And by the sounds coming from next door, I think it was.

If the first night was bad, the second night was far worse. Some natives, who probably had nowhere else to stay, were having a screaming fight about needles which quickly stopped after a sickening crunching noise. And next door the doctor had brought home one of the charming working girls plying her trade just a few doors down. To be fair, the website did say it was close to local amenities.

To make a memorable night all the more unforgettable the guy on the other side decided walking the two feet to the toilet was too much of an ask so instead relieved himself in his bed. When the pool of ammonia enriched piss began to trickle into my room I decided enough was enough. I piled all my possessions onto my bed, sat there rocking with fingers in my ears until morning and then got the fuck out of there with my friend on my heels.

We ended us forking out four times the amount we'd paid for this shithole on another hotel a few blocks up which was infinitely better. And also seemed to have free porn. Result. Until we go the bill the next morning. Cunts.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 5:02, Reply)

Ozzfest
Just this summer, the boyfriend and I made a pilgrimage to Ozzfest, to see Ozzy himself and revel in the dark festivities. We didn't have much money at all at the time, but Ozzfest was free this year! Too bad parking was $20. We didn't have any booze money left after that but we came prepared with a whole baggie of psychodelic mushrooms. It promised to be a great time.

We end up getting just BURNT TO A CRISP under the summer sun, during a record heat wave. Tripping out on the bright colors and shiney lights, we barely noticed until it was way, way, way too late. By then, sunscreen wouldn't have done us any good and I actually felt cooler with my jacket on, as the sun's rays could no longer beat directly onto my poor skin. We trekked back to the hotel much earlier than we wanted to as we couldn't endure any more punishment. I was looking forward to spending the rest of the night watching cartoons in the cool hotel room, still inhibited by a warped sense of imagination and moderate hallucinations. We had left the air conditioner on while we were gone and I could not wait to feel that rush of cold air on my face.

While we were gone, the air conditioner had broken. Not only that, it had become the reverse: a heater. It came at me like an oven, nearly dropping me to the floor. Neither one of us would enter the room.

I can honestly say that this was the worst moment of my life. Completely out of my mind on drugs, my skin peeling off the bone, severely dehydrated.

It ends happily: we ended up getting upgraded to a suite for no charge, with a whirlpool bath and free colas in the mini-fridge. Still, I did have to walk downstairs and talk to the manager about the problem in our room, watching his face twist as mysterious lights flashed across it.

The lamest part? I didn't even see Ozzy. I would have ended up in the burn victims unit if I had stayed, I'm sure of it.
(BrainSurgerysFun, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 2:11, Reply)

Imperial Attack
As student, funds were in short supply. So when young Brumdee and beau decided that a night of fun was to be had, we chose the mightly titled Imperial Hotel in the city centre.

Located on Bennetts Hill, it was a £20 a night fleapit with broken windows in the rooms, tramps and alcoholics sitting downstairs in reception, wallpaper peeling off walls but we didnt care. Most important factors were that it was away from both sets of parents and no young brothers and sister trying to get into your room to see what you're doing.

Not sure if it was the damp or the ardour but Mr Brumdee had a full on asthma attack leading us to get an ambulance to take him to the hospital.
(Brumdee, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 1:20, Reply)

youth hostel in france
Year 8 school trip.
After calling the top bunk within 3 seconds of stepping into the room (much to the dismay of my chums), i proceed to open the cupboard door.. only to find, "I SPUNKED IN THE TOP BUNK" crudely etched into the wall alongside "BAZ WOZ ERE" and a few lopsided willys.
I immiediatly surrender the bunk to my friend.

If the culprit of this helpful graffiti is reading this, then i'd like to thank you.
(probotector, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 0:55, 1 reply)

Brown Baby Otter
I used to work in Spain and had the amazing luck to visit 2 of the crappiest hotels the country had to offer.
The one with the 70s brown decor all round and the chicken feet soup was actuallyheaven compared to the worst one.
I thought something was amiss as I saw a small flea ridden dog that seemed to be trying to chew its own tail off in reception. This was however just a preview. As I strolled through the pool area I noticed with much astonishment that the local canine had in fact birthed a brown baby otter right in the swimming pool.
Now I'm not sure what Rex had been eating but it did dissolve at a rate of knots to form what I could only describe as a rusty coloured slurry that floated magestically around the shallow end.
(magic the cat will someone please think of the kittens, Sat 19 Jan 2008, 0:27, Reply)

Some 'hotel' in London.
There were insects.
( Jamie_W If your life had a face I would punch it., Fri 18 Jan 2008, 23:46, Reply)

No perving
In '06, my then-girlfriend came over to live with me and a couple of friends from Oz were stopping past Edinburgh. Between us we decided to have a road trip around Scotland, we figured it would be the best way to see a lot relatively cheaply.

Most of the hostels were ok, I pre-booked them online or over the phone well in advance. We got to Thurso (excellent hostel there btw) and I realised we hadn't booked anything for when we got over to the Orkneys.

Mrs Plowna had a quick flip through her lonely planet book, which despite being a few years old had been pretty spot on. We settled on what sounded like a nice little place on a farm. Gave them a call, and yes, no problems, we've got a room. And its dead cheap - by far the cheapeast so far. Result!

So, upon getting off the ferry at Orkney, we decided to check it out. At first, the girls were quite enthused about the whole deal. It was basically a couple of bunk beds built into an old barn.

Things just went downhill from there. First, there was the kitchen area. Smaller than your kitchen at home. We'd brought some supplies so we were planning on cooking something.

Then we asked about the oven and heating (not at the same time, bear with me). It was explained that all the electricity in the place runs off an old electrical system that required (old style) 50p pieces put into the box to keep it running.

We would be expected to put in for electricity (this was late Autumn so we would need the heating at the very least). Our host disappeared for a while, and there was much a-grumble amongst the ladies.

As we resigned ourselves to staying there, we realised that our host would be sleeping in one of the bunks provided. This place was also "open plan" meaning nowhere really safe to change except the bathroom. It became apparent that our host lived in this little barn.

There was quite a bit more indignation and general consternation from the ladies. As couples we decided to sleep on these mattresses that were on the floor, that had curtains round them for a bit of privacy.

The final straw came when it came time to have a shower. The owner had a built a couple of shower cubicles in the back of the barn, they were the newest looking thing in the whole mess. After chatting with our host, it turned out that there would be "oh, like, 4 minutes of hot water, but its probably only 1 minute now because I just had a shower".

Fair play to the girls, they waited until he had gone before putting a hole through a wall with the dummy they spit.

We had booked to stay 4 nights, but after staying the first night, I made some excuses to the owner (not the host), got our money back and we legged it over to Stromness and found a much better hostel there.

To make matters worse, the other couple busted our "host" perving on them in the morning through the little curtain, and the kicker for me was the little sign above the stove as we were walking out.

Besides explaining about the electricity situation, it laid what was and what was not allowed to be cooked in the kitchen. There was to be no meat cooked in the kitchen. (These people really didn't appear in any way to be muslim) Upon asking the host about that, he said his parents "didn't like the smell of meat". Fucking hippies.

Length? Quite small from the cold.
(plowna, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 23:03, Reply)