The moment you walk in, there’s an odd smell hanging in the air — like something between wet carpet and bad decisions. Then, as you turn the corner from the front desk, it hits you full in the face and follows you down the hallway until you finally make it into your hotel room, where it’s only slightly weaker.
If time travel exists, the mattress proved it — I’m pretty sure it was at least 25 years old, complete with Olympic-sized craters where previous guests vanished. They’d thrown on some kind of padding, which somehow upgraded the experience from “worn-out mattress” to “camping on a pile of boulders.”
The AC doubled as a helicopter simulator for the first half of the night, then switched to an alarm tone for the second — just in case I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping. The toilet barely flushed, the bathroom fan was more of a decorative wall piece than anything functional, and breakfast was so bad it made me miss instant noodles.
On the bright side, the Wi-Fi worked, and the breakfast smells briefly overpowered the hallway odour in the morning — so there’s that.
I paid $167 for this stay and left feeling completely ripped off