Maybe you were broke. Maybe the hotel mis-advertised itself. Maybe it was a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere and there was nowhere else to stay.
Where was it? How did you end up in it?
Once we stayed at a well-known resort in Muskoka, aka Toronto’s Vacation Wonderland. The room had flooded and no one on the staff had noticed. Step inside room. Squelch. Not a good start to a vacation.
Then there was the place where somehow the thermostat had been turned up to 110oF. Turned it down ourselves. Nothing happened. Back to the front desk.
The place in Da Lat, Viet Nam, was a beautiful old colonial hotel, teakwood everywhere. Lovely. Fantastic buffet breakfast that included a pho bar. But across the street every evening there was, I guess it was an outdoor disco, only no one was dancing, just standing listening, long into the night. Let’s call it an outdoor radio station. Up on a temporary stage were five or six speakers, each the size of an Element. Each turned up to 694 decibels. I envision a nasty, long-running squabble between the hotel and the ‘radio station’. Or maybe the hotel owner’s kid ran the station. Anyhow, this is why I never travel without ear plugs.
And the place in Albuquequerqueque, that’s a miserable word to spell. Air con was bust, bathroom sink leaked (not drip drip drip, more like dripdripdripdripdrip). The hair dryer didn’t work. And the balloon ascent was cancelled due to wind. Not the hotel’s fault, but still.
Image: Wikimedia Commons
