This has to be the worst hotel I have ever stayed in by a long shot. I write about it here simply in the hope that if just one person who was ever considering staying here reads it they will instead opt to sleep rough on the streets of Paisley, which I can assure you is an infinitely more pleasing prospect.
I once had to spend a night here when I was in Paisley on business and the Watermill Hotel (lovely place a few miles down the road) was regrettably fully booked.
Upon arrival I was greeted by a stroppy manageress who it seemed had mastered the art of making guests feel as if they are continually wasting her precious time by imposing in her space. During the process of checking in the phone rang - which she answered. Evidently the caller was a young man looking for work as a waiter. The manageress then proceeded to do a full telephone interview with this guy, while I was stood right in front of her waiting for my room key. What was worse, she left the really really obvious questions to ask on a telephone interview (like are you old enough for us to employ you?) right to the end of what became a pointless 15-minute conversation.
After this debacle I was escorted to my room through a series of winding corridors with leaking ceilings (don't mind the buckets on the floor!). My room stank of cigarettes despite asking for a non-smoking room. It was also very cold, with a window that didn't close properly.
Will you be eating here tonight?. My word if there had been any evidence of any alternatives nearby at this point I would have bolted for the door. Unfortunately it seemed I would be stuck in this place for another long 12 hours so I didn't have much choice. I asked to see the menu, to be given a look that was somewhere between withering and completely baffled. Oh, we just have fish and chips. Fish and chips it was then.
As I ate my fish and chips (terrible by the way) in the otherwise deserted dining room, and the elderly waiter struck up something of a one-way conversation with me that went on through my whole meal. I'm not a rude person, but his dialect was so thick I could barely understand a word, so was reduced to smiling and nodding like a muppet.
After beating a hasty retreat from the dining room without stopping for dessert or coffee (if they had even heard of them?) I retired to my room, to discover banging pipes and a TV that didn't work.
The following morning, after one of the worst night's sleep I've ever had, I felt a blissful feeling of relief as I walked out of that place. They had the nerve to charge £90 for the night - £20 of which was for dinner (heh). I'd have kicked up a huge fuss had I (a) had any energy left or (b) been paying the bill myself but instead I just counted my lucky stars for living another day and made a swift exit. read more