As the guy at the reception eyed me and my friend up and down, undressing us with his eyes, I restated for the third time "and our room has two separate beds, yes?"
I.E: WE ARE NOT HERE FOR AN INTIMATE HOMOSEXUAL ENCOUNTER.
"Yes sir. We don't usually provide a tuck-you-in service sir, but in this case I'd be prepared to make an exception..."
No. I missed this place when I first drove past, mistaking it for an ex-KGB hangout mysteriously dumped in the centre of Coventry. Such was the Eastern-block appearance of the "hotel that time forgot" you would be forgiven for thinking you were back in the motherland.
The word "gimcrack" springs to mind. Gold paint and marble floors greeted us in the foyer, where in the bedrooms you could expect a fuzzy black and white TV, a windowless bathroom with a trickle of piss at best coming out of the shower, and chewing gum stuck to the sofa.
As I lay in bed at night I could almost hear the helpless gargle of a shaven headed convict being water boarded and beaten in the bathroom, or the screams of an unknown miscreant being tortured in the room down the hall, conjouring memories of home. Good times.
Back downstairs, serial tourist abuse seemed to be the order of the day, loads of Yanks knocking about getting ripped off left right and centre. Thankfully we booked online and got a dirt cheap rate, but pay on the day and you'd be looking at paying 3 times what we did. Breakfast included fried eggs which appeared to have been fried then subsequently boiled, and the need for verbal and physical abuse of the staff before we could get any toast.
Quote of the stay came from the receptionist. "I've got a map I can give you, but I'm afraid it's only a paper one." Because the Hilton down the road is giving out I-Pad's with Google maps to all of it's customers eh. Moron. read more