Charlie Worrall
Google
A hotel that truly tests your patience (and your earplugs)
By a guest who paid €200 and lived to regret it
Let’s begin with the only redeeming feature of this place: the view. Rolling hills, lovely nature, all very postcard-worthy. Unfortunately, everything else - and I mean everything - is a masterclass in how not to run a hotel.
We were placed in a room designed for guests with disabilities. Thoughtful, if you need it. We didn’t. The shower required sitting down. The toilet was built like a throne, high and proud. And the pneumatic drilling at 6.45am each morning gave the whole thing a delightful prison-renovation vibe.
The air conditioning didn’t work, so the room was hot enough to cure meat. Flies were everywhere, like extras in a low-budget horror film. The furniture had given up years ago.
When we asked to change rooms, the receptionist - a woman who radiated the warm charm of a border official on a bad day, refused. Not reluctantly. She seemed to genuinely enjoy saying no.
Later, we overheard her telling another guest who actually needed a disabled-access room that there weren’t any available. So ours was both unwanted and blocking someone who did. If you’re after efficient, compassionate service, this place isn’t for you.
Other highlights include:
• Toilets closed for cleaning at the exact time the buffet opens - because logic
• Guests with dogs allowed to sit in the nice dining room, but we weren’t. No dogs, no view. Those were the rules.
• Staff who looked like they were being held hostage by the concept of customer service
• A bar that opens only when it feels like it
• And a price tag of €100 per night for the privilege
To top it all off, the hotel renovations are partially funded by the government. Quite where the money’s going is unclear, but it certainly isn’t on hospitality training or basic ventilation.
Fawlty Towers would be an upgrade. At least there you’d get a laugh