More Terrible Hotels
Actually paid to sleep somewhere that turned out to be less compfy, private or clean than the bench in the park outside? Tell us all about it.
Or perhaps you'd like to boast about getting upgraded to a sea-view suite next door to Stevie Wonder, like my colleague keeps doing? Over and over...
( , Thu 27 Nov 2014, 9:36)
Actually paid to sleep somewhere that turned out to be less compfy, private or clean than the bench in the park outside? Tell us all about it.
Or perhaps you'd like to boast about getting upgraded to a sea-view suite next door to Stevie Wonder, like my colleague keeps doing? Over and over...
( , Thu 27 Nov 2014, 9:36)
This question is now closed.
Hôtel de Ville, Paris.
Turned up late afternoon, but the lights were all off and no sign of any staff around. Managed to jimmy the door and make it inside the building. Since noone was about we just picked a room and stayed there.
The beds were made of solid pine, with keyboards instead of mattresses. Barely slept a wink before being forcibly ejected by some irascible gendarme around mid morning the following day.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 12:16, 10 replies)
Turned up late afternoon, but the lights were all off and no sign of any staff around. Managed to jimmy the door and make it inside the building. Since noone was about we just picked a room and stayed there.
The beds were made of solid pine, with keyboards instead of mattresses. Barely slept a wink before being forcibly ejected by some irascible gendarme around mid morning the following day.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 12:16, 10 replies)
Royal Albion Hotel, Brighton
Mind you, if a hotel is fine about a stag party booking then what do you really expect?
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 11:16, 2 replies)
Mind you, if a hotel is fine about a stag party booking then what do you really expect?
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 11:16, 2 replies)
My mum once told me "You treat this house like a hotel!"
I had to laugh, because I do - she's retired, and I feel she needs something to focus on, so clearing up after me provides her with something to do.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 11:02, 1 reply)
I had to laugh, because I do - she's retired, and I feel she needs something to focus on, so clearing up after me provides her with something to do.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 11:02, 1 reply)
I once saw Alexei Sayle in the northbound car park of Keele Services on the M6.
I was on my way to a hotel at the time, I think it was a Premier Inn or something like that. It was fine.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 0:11, Reply)
I was on my way to a hotel at the time, I think it was a Premier Inn or something like that. It was fine.
( , Mon 1 Dec 2014, 0:11, Reply)
Opening the gate...
The year was 1996, the destination Palma Nova, just down the road from Magaluf. The end of A-Levels resulted in 8 of us, 5 lads, 3 girls begging for money off the parents to go on an all out party week.
You know the scene from the Inbetweeners film, when they arrive at their hotel and they are the only people getting off the bus, at the complete shit hole. We had the opposite. It looked lovely. Clean, tidy, busy bar, clean corridors. Thing was, it was about 4am when we arrived.
But the rooms, dear God the rooms.
We'd paid for all inclusive, 3* hotel with everything including bedding and towels in the price. 3 * Twin rooms, one double for the couple. 2 of the twins had no running water, the double and 2 of the twins had bathrooms that could only be described as "smeared in shit". The air-con in all rooms seemed to function, but we soon realised that there were more cockroaches coming out of the vents than cool air. The beds had no mattress, just one of those camping matts over the wooden slats. Sheets? Nope. On investigation, in the small print, we saw the surcharge of £40 per person for a sheet and a towel. According to the hotel, the camping mattress was enough for most people.
We got through the first night sitting in reception and complained to the manager. We were told that they were the only available rooms and as we had stayed one night, we had forgone any chance of a refund. We had stayed about 30 mins in the room taking pictures but this was deemed enough.
We had breakfast before leaving, and this turned out to be the worst mistake. 3 of the party had the rotten shits about an hour after eating, which lasted a day, but Emma's ham omelette ended with a two day stay in hospital.
Camping and tents for the rest of the holiday meant the last 5 days were just peachy, but Hotel Palma, now a gigantic apartment block, you nearly did for us.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 22:30, Reply)
The year was 1996, the destination Palma Nova, just down the road from Magaluf. The end of A-Levels resulted in 8 of us, 5 lads, 3 girls begging for money off the parents to go on an all out party week.
You know the scene from the Inbetweeners film, when they arrive at their hotel and they are the only people getting off the bus, at the complete shit hole. We had the opposite. It looked lovely. Clean, tidy, busy bar, clean corridors. Thing was, it was about 4am when we arrived.
But the rooms, dear God the rooms.
We'd paid for all inclusive, 3* hotel with everything including bedding and towels in the price. 3 * Twin rooms, one double for the couple. 2 of the twins had no running water, the double and 2 of the twins had bathrooms that could only be described as "smeared in shit". The air-con in all rooms seemed to function, but we soon realised that there were more cockroaches coming out of the vents than cool air. The beds had no mattress, just one of those camping matts over the wooden slats. Sheets? Nope. On investigation, in the small print, we saw the surcharge of £40 per person for a sheet and a towel. According to the hotel, the camping mattress was enough for most people.
We got through the first night sitting in reception and complained to the manager. We were told that they were the only available rooms and as we had stayed one night, we had forgone any chance of a refund. We had stayed about 30 mins in the room taking pictures but this was deemed enough.
We had breakfast before leaving, and this turned out to be the worst mistake. 3 of the party had the rotten shits about an hour after eating, which lasted a day, but Emma's ham omelette ended with a two day stay in hospital.
Camping and tents for the rest of the holiday meant the last 5 days were just peachy, but Hotel Palma, now a gigantic apartment block, you nearly did for us.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 22:30, Reply)
The Regents Palace Piccadilly Circus
I stayed here on a number of occasions before it shut down, the first time being a sixth form drama trip to London when a friend of mine was actually mugged at knife point in his own room after two guys ran in while the door was slowly closing and took his phone and wallet.
You would have thought that would put me off but I always seemed to end up staying there. Pubes on the bed, drunks and junkies passed out in the corridors and in the communal bathrooms, shit covered toilets/showers were some
of the other delights on offer. One Yelp review (since deleted) actually described it "not fit for humans". I accidentally pulled both the wardrobe doors off and rang reception to be told "don't worry it happens all the time". It's redeeming feature was a massive Irish pub that took up most of the ground floor that was open til the early hours for residents unfortunately that also served as the restaurant for breakfast so the place fucking stank of fag smoke, stale beer, B.O and piss.
Although I'm complaining I actually quite miss the place.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 20:40, 2 replies)
I stayed here on a number of occasions before it shut down, the first time being a sixth form drama trip to London when a friend of mine was actually mugged at knife point in his own room after two guys ran in while the door was slowly closing and took his phone and wallet.
You would have thought that would put me off but I always seemed to end up staying there. Pubes on the bed, drunks and junkies passed out in the corridors and in the communal bathrooms, shit covered toilets/showers were some
of the other delights on offer. One Yelp review (since deleted) actually described it "not fit for humans". I accidentally pulled both the wardrobe doors off and rang reception to be told "don't worry it happens all the time". It's redeeming feature was a massive Irish pub that took up most of the ground floor that was open til the early hours for residents unfortunately that also served as the restaurant for breakfast so the place fucking stank of fag smoke, stale beer, B.O and piss.
Although I'm complaining I actually quite miss the place.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 20:40, 2 replies)
Well since my baby left me
I've been staying at this charming little gaf at the end of Lonely Street.
Just till I get the alimoney sorted, you understand.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 20:32, 1 reply)
I've been staying at this charming little gaf at the end of Lonely Street.
Just till I get the alimoney sorted, you understand.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 20:32, 1 reply)
hotel europa, malgrat, 1993
first clue should have been the fact that i was the only person in a group of 72 to be staying there.
the room was a shoebox with a broken window, there was crumbling plaster everywhere and the air conditioning squeaked like a pair of humping gerbils. at mealtimes, the first 10 people got lukewarm chips. everyone after that got freezing cold mash. hot food was not something that ever happened there.
after 3 days, i was told that the maid had complained because i had clothes drying over the bath. i said if they were willing to give me a room with a balcony so i could dry my clothes in the fresh air, i'd happily remove them from the bathroom.
i didn't realise the first room was one of the better ones.
they moved me to a cubby hole so small i could open the window on the other side of the room whilst lying in bed. the wardrobe was a curtained-off alcove, the balcony a rusted health and safety nightmare and the shower dribbled like an incontinent stoat. i didn't sleep very well, as the only curtain in the room was the one doing service as a wardrobe door, so i spent a fair bit of time by the pool. not in the pool, mind; when you see that many dead insects in the water, you are disinclined to enter yourself. it was almost as if a carpet of death was spread over the stagnant contents.
the bar was staffed by one man, who worked from lunchtime till whenever he felt like going home. cheerfulness was alien to him. that being said, most of the other staff seemed quite pleasant. still couldn't wait to get out of there, though, despite the bakery next door selling the best doughnuts i've ever tasted.
the next year, the hotel europa had been removed from the holiday brochure. i can't imagine why.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 17:23, Reply)
first clue should have been the fact that i was the only person in a group of 72 to be staying there.
the room was a shoebox with a broken window, there was crumbling plaster everywhere and the air conditioning squeaked like a pair of humping gerbils. at mealtimes, the first 10 people got lukewarm chips. everyone after that got freezing cold mash. hot food was not something that ever happened there.
after 3 days, i was told that the maid had complained because i had clothes drying over the bath. i said if they were willing to give me a room with a balcony so i could dry my clothes in the fresh air, i'd happily remove them from the bathroom.
i didn't realise the first room was one of the better ones.
they moved me to a cubby hole so small i could open the window on the other side of the room whilst lying in bed. the wardrobe was a curtained-off alcove, the balcony a rusted health and safety nightmare and the shower dribbled like an incontinent stoat. i didn't sleep very well, as the only curtain in the room was the one doing service as a wardrobe door, so i spent a fair bit of time by the pool. not in the pool, mind; when you see that many dead insects in the water, you are disinclined to enter yourself. it was almost as if a carpet of death was spread over the stagnant contents.
the bar was staffed by one man, who worked from lunchtime till whenever he felt like going home. cheerfulness was alien to him. that being said, most of the other staff seemed quite pleasant. still couldn't wait to get out of there, though, despite the bakery next door selling the best doughnuts i've ever tasted.
the next year, the hotel europa had been removed from the holiday brochure. i can't imagine why.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 17:23, Reply)
Here's your winner
I can't describe this place any better than these reviews:
www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g186275-d1020703-Reviews-Crown_Inn-Lewes_East_Sussex_England.html
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 11:11, Reply)
I can't describe this place any better than these reviews:
www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g186275-d1020703-Reviews-Crown_Inn-Lewes_East_Sussex_England.html
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 11:11, Reply)
the year was 1997 and I was passing through london with a week to kill before the bus-ferry-bus to Dublin.
The cheapest hostel I could find was in Earls Court. Checking in I discovered the reason for the unlikely low price was that the building had been condemned, and I think the owners were trying to squeeze whatever money they could out of it before the closure.
The first day they shut the water off, but undeterred, guest continued crapping in the now non-flushing toilets which all filled to overflowing with shit. There was something of party atmosphere about the place as the few remaining staff had stopped giving a fuck and the basement had turned into a permanent party place, with some israelis who fancied themselves as DJs, drugs and lots of alcohol. Somebody had vomited on the carpeted stairs, which nobody cleaned up. We just tried to hold our breath as we passed it. My own room had been deserted as it's only other guest was this obese middle-aged black guy who snored like a chainsaw. But I didn't care, I could sleep through a nuclear strike. He used one of the bunk beds as his office desk during the day, wore just a pair of shorts and flip-flops, and shouted down the phone like he was a wall street trader. the last four days on the advice of one of staff I stopped paying.I missed the day of the closure by a couple of days, a shame because there was a big party planned. I think it was called the Chelsea Hostel or similar.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 7:41, 1 reply)
The cheapest hostel I could find was in Earls Court. Checking in I discovered the reason for the unlikely low price was that the building had been condemned, and I think the owners were trying to squeeze whatever money they could out of it before the closure.
The first day they shut the water off, but undeterred, guest continued crapping in the now non-flushing toilets which all filled to overflowing with shit. There was something of party atmosphere about the place as the few remaining staff had stopped giving a fuck and the basement had turned into a permanent party place, with some israelis who fancied themselves as DJs, drugs and lots of alcohol. Somebody had vomited on the carpeted stairs, which nobody cleaned up. We just tried to hold our breath as we passed it. My own room had been deserted as it's only other guest was this obese middle-aged black guy who snored like a chainsaw. But I didn't care, I could sleep through a nuclear strike. He used one of the bunk beds as his office desk during the day, wore just a pair of shorts and flip-flops, and shouted down the phone like he was a wall street trader. the last four days on the advice of one of staff I stopped paying.I missed the day of the closure by a couple of days, a shame because there was a big party planned. I think it was called the Chelsea Hostel or similar.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 7:41, 1 reply)
Seedy Paddington
Years ago, I missed the last train going anywhere from Paddington, and ended up staying in a local "hotel".
During checkin, the guy behind the desk hardly even looked up from a small TV set in the corner. Went up to the room.
The room was tiny and entirely wood panelled walls (like a sort of 70s launderette.) The month was August and the radiator was on full. Window would not open of course.
So the room was like a sauna. Lay on the bed with nasty nylon sheets.
Every ten minutes for the next few hours, I could hear the noises from the next room through the wall.
It went something like this:
Woman: "tee hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
Man: "mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
Silence for 10 minutes.
Woman: "tee hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
Man: "mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
Silence for 10 minutes.
Repeat....
Wish I knew what the crap was going on in there!!!
Didn't try the breakfast.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 3:00, Reply)
Years ago, I missed the last train going anywhere from Paddington, and ended up staying in a local "hotel".
During checkin, the guy behind the desk hardly even looked up from a small TV set in the corner. Went up to the room.
The room was tiny and entirely wood panelled walls (like a sort of 70s launderette.) The month was August and the radiator was on full. Window would not open of course.
So the room was like a sauna. Lay on the bed with nasty nylon sheets.
Every ten minutes for the next few hours, I could hear the noises from the next room through the wall.
It went something like this:
Woman: "tee hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
Man: "mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
Silence for 10 minutes.
Woman: "tee hee hee hee hee hee hee!"
Man: "mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
Silence for 10 minutes.
Repeat....
Wish I knew what the crap was going on in there!!!
Didn't try the breakfast.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 3:00, Reply)
Last time I stayed in a place ostensibly run by another b3ta person
I discovered the effects lots of interesting insect bites all over my legs and torso within 24 hours.
However, I'm sure that was an unfortunate coincidence.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 1:34, 1 reply)
I discovered the effects lots of interesting insect bites all over my legs and torso within 24 hours.
However, I'm sure that was an unfortunate coincidence.
( , Sun 30 Nov 2014, 1:34, 1 reply)
No one really sleeps there
Stayed at a place recently where sleep was hard to get. Too many smoking, noisy Germans would return to their rooms at 2 a.m. to party inappropriately. Outside, the hotel was surrounded by homeless people. Talked to a woman who would bed down every night in the alley behind the hotel. Sleep was hard to get out there too. A couple of mornings before, she was awakened by a light tapping on her shoulder. "Who is this person touching me in such an inappropriate manner?" she thought. Prepared to do battle, she peered out from under her blanket and found herself face-to-face with a curious bird. She described it as a tweeting sugarbird - probably a sparrow. Curiosity satisfied, the bird hopped upon her shoulder and flew away.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 21:04, 1 reply)
Stayed at a place recently where sleep was hard to get. Too many smoking, noisy Germans would return to their rooms at 2 a.m. to party inappropriately. Outside, the hotel was surrounded by homeless people. Talked to a woman who would bed down every night in the alley behind the hotel. Sleep was hard to get out there too. A couple of mornings before, she was awakened by a light tapping on her shoulder. "Who is this person touching me in such an inappropriate manner?" she thought. Prepared to do battle, she peered out from under her blanket and found herself face-to-face with a curious bird. She described it as a tweeting sugarbird - probably a sparrow. Curiosity satisfied, the bird hopped upon her shoulder and flew away.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 21:04, 1 reply)
Riverside hostelries in North Lancashire are under-rated.
There's more to Ribble hotels than you might think.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 20:48, 3 replies)
There's more to Ribble hotels than you might think.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 20:48, 3 replies)
Me and my husband got turned away by a Cornish couple who didn't fancy having to scrape twice the usual quantity of semen off their bedsheets.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 16:41, 7 replies)
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 16:41, 7 replies)
Celebrity Toenails in Huddersfield
When I first entered my room and put my bags down, there was a piece of paper on the dresser with a list of "Celebrities Who Have Stayed At The Huddersfield Hotel" - Ewan MacGregor, Jane Horrocks, the cast of Heartbeat, Bernard Manning, the cast of Last Of the Summer Wine etc. etc.
As I went to bed that night, I put my book on the floor and noticed a fair-sized pile of toenail clippings, all neatly swept into the corner by the bedside table. As I turned the light out, I wondered who might have left them there: Ewan MacGregor, Jane Horrocks, the cast of Heartbeat...
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 10:57, 1 reply)
When I first entered my room and put my bags down, there was a piece of paper on the dresser with a list of "Celebrities Who Have Stayed At The Huddersfield Hotel" - Ewan MacGregor, Jane Horrocks, the cast of Heartbeat, Bernard Manning, the cast of Last Of the Summer Wine etc. etc.
As I went to bed that night, I put my book on the floor and noticed a fair-sized pile of toenail clippings, all neatly swept into the corner by the bedside table. As I turned the light out, I wondered who might have left them there: Ewan MacGregor, Jane Horrocks, the cast of Heartbeat...
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 10:57, 1 reply)
Summer 2009
Best Mate and self roadtripping across the US, east to west. We arrived in Phoenix, Arizona. It was hot and vile and we were fairly broke by this point, so we booked into a Motel 6 for the night despite knowing it to be pretty much the cheapest and nastiest of the US motel chains.
I flaked out in front of the air conditioner while Best Mate went out for drinks. He came back to report that "there are two girls in the next room who asked if I wanted a good time. Do you think they might be prostitutes?"
I told him yes, they probably were, and we started on the drinks.
Later that night we were awoken by flashing blue lights and tramping feet as the cops arrived. I didn't have the courage to peer through the curtains to see what was happening, but when morning rolled around we had a shufti through the gap in the curtains of the room next door. It was stone empty, save only for an industrial size container of baby oil on the table.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 3:01, 2 replies)
Best Mate and self roadtripping across the US, east to west. We arrived in Phoenix, Arizona. It was hot and vile and we were fairly broke by this point, so we booked into a Motel 6 for the night despite knowing it to be pretty much the cheapest and nastiest of the US motel chains.
I flaked out in front of the air conditioner while Best Mate went out for drinks. He came back to report that "there are two girls in the next room who asked if I wanted a good time. Do you think they might be prostitutes?"
I told him yes, they probably were, and we started on the drinks.
Later that night we were awoken by flashing blue lights and tramping feet as the cops arrived. I didn't have the courage to peer through the curtains to see what was happening, but when morning rolled around we had a shufti through the gap in the curtains of the room next door. It was stone empty, save only for an industrial size container of baby oil on the table.
( , Sat 29 Nov 2014, 3:01, 2 replies)
Hotel Wanker
Many incarnations ago, I booked into a budget chain hotel in one of your Earth cities. All was well to start with - female receptionist friendly, everything clean, no offensive odours.
So I took the lift up to my room with light hearts, and opened the door with not entirely unjustified expectations of a decent, clean room. This did indeed appear to be the case - but my attention was distracted by the large, naked, black man sprawled on the double bed, wanking his oiled black cock to the porn channel on the room's TV.
Our eyes met and his face assumed an expression of complete mortification - as, I suppose, did mine - and he stopped wanking - though his penis remained fully erect, rather admirably in the circumstances.
We stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence save for the groans and moans and cheesy music of the porno movie soundtrack. Then I retreated and gently closed the door, and made my way back down to reception.
Then I remembered the cheerful, young, innocent looking girl manning the desk.
Bugger, I thought. She smiled as I approached the desk and I smiled back, my mind racing, wondering what I should say.
'Er... I went up to my room... and there was somebody in it,' I muttered.
'Oh' said the receptionist, looking surprised. 'Did you ask them to leave?'
'Not exactly,' I said. 'Look, it's a bit embarrassing, he was naked, and -'
'Was he black?' she interrupted.
'Y - yes,' I stammered. 'A big, bald, black guy...'
She asked for my key and quickly processed me into another room on a different floor. I approached this room with trepidation but it was thankfully devoid of masturbating men of any skin colour. (Except for me, later, as I was a man back then, and - well, that's another story).
When I went down to the carvery later, sure enough, the carvery chef was this very same bald black guy.
I'd always idly wondered if black people could blush.
LAIGHTERZ SWEEETIESE!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 18:34, 4 replies)
Many incarnations ago, I booked into a budget chain hotel in one of your Earth cities. All was well to start with - female receptionist friendly, everything clean, no offensive odours.
So I took the lift up to my room with light hearts, and opened the door with not entirely unjustified expectations of a decent, clean room. This did indeed appear to be the case - but my attention was distracted by the large, naked, black man sprawled on the double bed, wanking his oiled black cock to the porn channel on the room's TV.
Our eyes met and his face assumed an expression of complete mortification - as, I suppose, did mine - and he stopped wanking - though his penis remained fully erect, rather admirably in the circumstances.
We stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence save for the groans and moans and cheesy music of the porno movie soundtrack. Then I retreated and gently closed the door, and made my way back down to reception.
Then I remembered the cheerful, young, innocent looking girl manning the desk.
Bugger, I thought. She smiled as I approached the desk and I smiled back, my mind racing, wondering what I should say.
'Er... I went up to my room... and there was somebody in it,' I muttered.
'Oh' said the receptionist, looking surprised. 'Did you ask them to leave?'
'Not exactly,' I said. 'Look, it's a bit embarrassing, he was naked, and -'
'Was he black?' she interrupted.
'Y - yes,' I stammered. 'A big, bald, black guy...'
She asked for my key and quickly processed me into another room on a different floor. I approached this room with trepidation but it was thankfully devoid of masturbating men of any skin colour. (Except for me, later, as I was a man back then, and - well, that's another story).
When I went down to the carvery later, sure enough, the carvery chef was this very same bald black guy.
I'd always idly wondered if black people could blush.
LAIGHTERZ SWEEETIESE!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 18:34, 4 replies)
Pearoast - The Easy Hotel
I think the picture says it all really. Basic is fine, but this is probably not conducive to a good night's sleep
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 13:05, 2 replies)
I think the picture says it all really. Basic is fine, but this is probably not conducive to a good night's sleep
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 13:05, 2 replies)
Hotel in Paris had a lift that fit no more than 2 people.
with carpeted walls... what is that even about?
Stayed at a hotel in Blackpool that was owned by a Christian couple. It was where chintz went to die. Loads of little wooden crosses all over, crystal animals as far as they eye can see and beaded doilies over the milk jug.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 13:01, 5 replies)
with carpeted walls... what is that even about?
Stayed at a hotel in Blackpool that was owned by a Christian couple. It was where chintz went to die. Loads of little wooden crosses all over, crystal animals as far as they eye can see and beaded doilies over the milk jug.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 13:01, 5 replies)
I'm stuck on this dismal planet.
I thought it was getting better - but now there is a growing trend that thinks digital watches are really cool again.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 11:10, 7 replies)
I thought it was getting better - but now there is a growing trend that thinks digital watches are really cool again.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 11:10, 7 replies)
I stayed in a hotel in Saigon where they'd ripped up all the flooring, but left behind a kind of sticky glue
Walking anywhere except the bathroom involved making a cadence of puck puck noises. As far I could tell I was the only guest.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 10:06, 2 replies)
Walking anywhere except the bathroom involved making a cadence of puck puck noises. As far I could tell I was the only guest.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 10:06, 2 replies)
Iran
Before it all kicked off with nuclear stuff I used to travel to Tehran a couple of times a year on business.
It's such a lovely city nestled at the base of a mountain range. I was promised to go skiing but never did get round to it.
Anyhow, when the Shah was chucked on (cira 1976) all the hotels were nationalised for 'the people' who, of course, could never afford to stay there. I uused to stay in what was previously the Hilton. The entrance rug obviously hadn't been changed since the revolution but vacuuming every day had left it with barely a thread left. Check in was ok, but of course no American Express, big wads of cash and westerners paid twice the amount of anyone with an Iranian passport.
I was plumped into the 'new wing' which was 'the best'. All kinds of little horrors;
No internet. (no porn)
Plug sockets hanging off the wall in the bathroom.
No booze.
Dodgy bedcovers
Tiles missing.
Hole in the floor - later found out that was infact the toilet.
Wipe your arse with a rag - and put it back!!
Food - urgh
Taxis - fumes would have killed a family in a 4 bed semi unless you stick your head out of the window like a mutated Alsatian.
And still no booze.
Or women. They were there of course, but you couldn't see anything of them.
Managed to survive the week and had a boner when I saw the Emirates trolly dolly's ankles - cor.
Landed back in Dubai and a swift taxi to my suite at the Emirates Tower and a few bottles of Fosters.
The people were lovely though.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 8:59, 5 replies)
Before it all kicked off with nuclear stuff I used to travel to Tehran a couple of times a year on business.
It's such a lovely city nestled at the base of a mountain range. I was promised to go skiing but never did get round to it.
Anyhow, when the Shah was chucked on (cira 1976) all the hotels were nationalised for 'the people' who, of course, could never afford to stay there. I uused to stay in what was previously the Hilton. The entrance rug obviously hadn't been changed since the revolution but vacuuming every day had left it with barely a thread left. Check in was ok, but of course no American Express, big wads of cash and westerners paid twice the amount of anyone with an Iranian passport.
I was plumped into the 'new wing' which was 'the best'. All kinds of little horrors;
No internet. (no porn)
Plug sockets hanging off the wall in the bathroom.
No booze.
Dodgy bedcovers
Tiles missing.
Hole in the floor - later found out that was infact the toilet.
Wipe your arse with a rag - and put it back!!
Food - urgh
Taxis - fumes would have killed a family in a 4 bed semi unless you stick your head out of the window like a mutated Alsatian.
And still no booze.
Or women. They were there of course, but you couldn't see anything of them.
Managed to survive the week and had a boner when I saw the Emirates trolly dolly's ankles - cor.
Landed back in Dubai and a swift taxi to my suite at the Emirates Tower and a few bottles of Fosters.
The people were lovely though.
( , Fri 28 Nov 2014, 8:59, 5 replies)
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