After a long journey, we looked forward to resting in a clean, spacious room, similar to those shown on the website. Unfortunately, that was not to be. Our room was the size of a postage stamp, with a bathroom similar to one you might find in an under-stairs cupboard. Old, dated, with some drawers so tatty we stopped attempting to use them, the room would have made a perfect set in a 70s sitcom. After spending the best part of £300 for two nights, I was hoping that we might be awarded more than one bar of soap and a mouldy shower curtain to complement our stay. Actually, we did. There two unwrapped teabags, clearly retrieved from a box of PG Tips, dumped into some little cups, making up our 'facilities'. The room faced out onto a noisy roundabout, where wannabe Ayrton Sennas practiced their manoeuvres all night long. After politely enquiring about the 'breakfast' listed with our room on the website, we were told, 'Not doing breakfast, because Covid'. OK, so not even a little bag with a piece of fruit and a yoghurt in our room then? I guess not. Perhaps the person in charge of making the lack of breakfast clear on the website (and deducting the cost) was off sick that day. The guests were required to wear face masks through the public areas of the hotel. Fair enough. But I couldn't help but wonder why the group of men crowded into the tiny bar watching football with the manager were exempt from mask wearing and social distancing. Perhaps they were asked to take a test first.
