Ian C
Google
We reached the Neman Hotel in mid-evening after a four-hour train journey from Minsk. The reception area was dim and uncluttered, quite the starkest hotel lobby I’d seen for some time, but the receptionist was Anglophone and helpful. Our room was on the first floor, reached by one of those corridors which seem to be unlit until you advance and trigger a sensor, or in this case a succession of sensors. The room was also on the stark side, and the beds were not made up – sheet and cover neatly folded, but that was all. Still, it was large, reasonably light, and if it had no safe, it had a fridge, which the old hand in me checked and had to plug in.||Breakfast bucked the trend of our recent trips by not being a buffet. We had a choice of four menus. I suppose my wife’s ham omelette was all right, but her tea was a cup of hot water and a tea-bag. I went for cornflakes (nothing like any cornflake I’d ever seen, and soggy to boot), curds with honey (heavy, teeth-coating, mostly got left), coffee and juice which it would have taken some effort to spoil, and a carton of yoghurt which was probably the safest thing on offer. The breakfast room didn’t have the empty modernity of the foyer – I seem to remember cornices and flowery carpet – but it would have been silent and cheerless if not for the presence of a football team from Minsk.||When we left the receptionist was very happy to print off our boarding passes for the next day. I didn’t finish the check-in until 7.25; the receptionist had the passes printed and ready for me even before I got down to the foyer. Just as efficiently he dealt with a request for a wake-up call – ‘reveille’, he called it – for a breakfast box, for a taxi to take us to the station at 6 a.m., and for the little slips to put in our passport to prove where we had stayed and for how long.||Other reviews praise the situation of the hotel. They are right.