Oh, this one’s a masterpiece of hospitality. I show up at 8 PM, having booked a double bed—naturally, I get two singles. Fine, they move me to a proper double. I walk in, and the window is wide open because the cleaner was in that morning. No big deal, except the heating is broken, and the hotel’s solution? A mini radiator. And I mean mini—like, “might just about keep a hamster cozy” mini.
So, I leave it to “warm up” while I head to the bar for an 8 quid pint of zero-alcohol disappointment. Get back, still freezing. End up sleeping in my coat because the outside temperature is just above freezing, and inside? I’d say somewhere between “unpleasant” and “should I be worried about hypothermia?” levels of cold.
And the best part? I find out this morning that the hotel knew about the heating issue before lunchtime. I didn’t even book until 4 PM. So they knowingly let me check into what was essentially an icebox. That’s not just bad service—that’s straight-up wrong.
