Peteaud
Veteran
- Location
- South Somerset
I do love trip advisor, and have spent many a dull damp hour laughing at the misfortune of some, but this one had me crying with tears of laughter.
http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_...d_Guest_House-Oxford_Oxfordshire_England.html
Going on a trip to Oxford with the girlfriend, a city full of culture and intrigue . . . what could go wrong?
So we made the unforgivable error of not checking trip advisor beforehand and got taken in by the proximity to the city centre and the cheap price of this establishment. Lesson learned.
Where to start with this place?
The gang of shady looking down and outs that congregate outside was a peachy introduction. They all looked like they'd done time and wanted to steal the wheels off my car. Before the PC brigade get on my case, I don't know where they were from, but I don't expect to be greeted at any hotel by a gang of misfits leering at my other half as she exits the car.
The car park (using this term very loosely) at the hotel had more pot holes in it than Baghdad during an American artillery offensive. And don't bother trying to get out any time soon because you will be blocked in. This was then followed by the Borat type character loitering by the back door with no real purpose other than to talk a few words of unfathomable English at us like Juan Sheet from the kitchen roll advert and point us inside.
Why the kitchen is allowed to be witnessed by guests arriving is a mystery. It looked grim, the staff in there looked absolutely stressed out and if Gordon Ramsey was around he would have been belting out a few choice phrases.
If you can prize your attention away from the multitude of dangerous looking wires draping down from the walls then you will be lucky enough to meet the manager. Personally, he didn't come across particularly threatening or unpleasant as some reviews suggest, but that was just my opinion for that day. I certainly wasn't keeping tabs on him.
The journey to the room itself is through the reception area, out the front door and onto the main road past the aforementioned Ocean's 11 gang. The hotel is not connected via internal doors you see. If you have any kind of issue or it's raining and you forget your key, you're going to have a nice little trip back to the reception.
My suspicions at the quality of the establishment were further ignited when I saw the front door lock fail to work and the gaping hole where a letter box once used to be. Inside there was a very old fashioned feel of the 1980s about the décor and some very scuffed carpets and staining about the walls.
If you like your space then these rooms probably aren't for you. If you are Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption then it might be a small step up, but not by much. The view also left a lot to be desired. From the window, stunning views of Oxford you won't get, but if you are a fan of bric a brac, broken appliances, feral cats and more trash then these views are for you!
Temper the panic in your brain at this point and look to the television across the room that has clearly been borrowed from 1986 and never returned. Don't mention widescreen or dvd player here, you will draw a blank expression. Moving on from the crippling devastation that I had nothing to hook my playstation up to for several days, the bathroom wouldn't have been out of place in Slumdog Millionaire. It was literally one step in all directions of the compass, you couldn't even bend over to shove your face in the loo to end it all. The grime and discolouring was also a treat and I only wish I'd brought my Zoggs to protect my feet from the shower floor.
By this point the mortals among us would be tempted to leave and cut their losses. Unfortunately, what I failed to mention is that payment has already been taken up front for the duration of your stay! Even Jack Nicholson wasn't charged up front to stay at the Overlook Hotel in the Shining.
Laying in bed on your first night, it probably couldn't get any worse could it? Bear in mind that not all other guests are going to be like yourselves and have a basic understanding of common decency and a smidgen of respect for others. The larking about, the shouting, the arguing outside your door all help to keep you wired for a night of intensity. Along with the stained headboard that we were forced to cover with a hastily bought table cloth, it was like being in the opening scene of Saw when they wake up in that room and struggle to understand what on earth has brought them to be there.
It's at this point that you think well I can't sleep anyway, I'll Google the place for something to do as I watch over my girlfriend and keep my other eye on the flimsy door. I don't want to go into the details but you will ask yourself how this place is still open after the revelations you discover online about what went on here. Expect to get a cold shudder down your back and to feel like the lead actor in your own reality horror show.
All that is left is to sleep with both eyes open, listen to your own heartbeat and sweat profusely with each footstep outside the door. In the morning you will make the customary Lewis Hamilton style getaway and once outside Oxford you will pretend it was all a bad dream.
To quote Russell Crowe in Gladiator: "Marcus Aurelius had a dream that was Rome . . . This is not it!!!"
P.S. Lenny Henry used to annoy me on that advert about the Premier Inn. He doesn't anymore.
http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_...d_Guest_House-Oxford_Oxfordshire_England.html
Going on a trip to Oxford with the girlfriend, a city full of culture and intrigue . . . what could go wrong?
So we made the unforgivable error of not checking trip advisor beforehand and got taken in by the proximity to the city centre and the cheap price of this establishment. Lesson learned.
Where to start with this place?
The gang of shady looking down and outs that congregate outside was a peachy introduction. They all looked like they'd done time and wanted to steal the wheels off my car. Before the PC brigade get on my case, I don't know where they were from, but I don't expect to be greeted at any hotel by a gang of misfits leering at my other half as she exits the car.
The car park (using this term very loosely) at the hotel had more pot holes in it than Baghdad during an American artillery offensive. And don't bother trying to get out any time soon because you will be blocked in. This was then followed by the Borat type character loitering by the back door with no real purpose other than to talk a few words of unfathomable English at us like Juan Sheet from the kitchen roll advert and point us inside.
Why the kitchen is allowed to be witnessed by guests arriving is a mystery. It looked grim, the staff in there looked absolutely stressed out and if Gordon Ramsey was around he would have been belting out a few choice phrases.
If you can prize your attention away from the multitude of dangerous looking wires draping down from the walls then you will be lucky enough to meet the manager. Personally, he didn't come across particularly threatening or unpleasant as some reviews suggest, but that was just my opinion for that day. I certainly wasn't keeping tabs on him.
The journey to the room itself is through the reception area, out the front door and onto the main road past the aforementioned Ocean's 11 gang. The hotel is not connected via internal doors you see. If you have any kind of issue or it's raining and you forget your key, you're going to have a nice little trip back to the reception.
My suspicions at the quality of the establishment were further ignited when I saw the front door lock fail to work and the gaping hole where a letter box once used to be. Inside there was a very old fashioned feel of the 1980s about the décor and some very scuffed carpets and staining about the walls.
If you like your space then these rooms probably aren't for you. If you are Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption then it might be a small step up, but not by much. The view also left a lot to be desired. From the window, stunning views of Oxford you won't get, but if you are a fan of bric a brac, broken appliances, feral cats and more trash then these views are for you!
Temper the panic in your brain at this point and look to the television across the room that has clearly been borrowed from 1986 and never returned. Don't mention widescreen or dvd player here, you will draw a blank expression. Moving on from the crippling devastation that I had nothing to hook my playstation up to for several days, the bathroom wouldn't have been out of place in Slumdog Millionaire. It was literally one step in all directions of the compass, you couldn't even bend over to shove your face in the loo to end it all. The grime and discolouring was also a treat and I only wish I'd brought my Zoggs to protect my feet from the shower floor.
By this point the mortals among us would be tempted to leave and cut their losses. Unfortunately, what I failed to mention is that payment has already been taken up front for the duration of your stay! Even Jack Nicholson wasn't charged up front to stay at the Overlook Hotel in the Shining.
Laying in bed on your first night, it probably couldn't get any worse could it? Bear in mind that not all other guests are going to be like yourselves and have a basic understanding of common decency and a smidgen of respect for others. The larking about, the shouting, the arguing outside your door all help to keep you wired for a night of intensity. Along with the stained headboard that we were forced to cover with a hastily bought table cloth, it was like being in the opening scene of Saw when they wake up in that room and struggle to understand what on earth has brought them to be there.
It's at this point that you think well I can't sleep anyway, I'll Google the place for something to do as I watch over my girlfriend and keep my other eye on the flimsy door. I don't want to go into the details but you will ask yourself how this place is still open after the revelations you discover online about what went on here. Expect to get a cold shudder down your back and to feel like the lead actor in your own reality horror show.
All that is left is to sleep with both eyes open, listen to your own heartbeat and sweat profusely with each footstep outside the door. In the morning you will make the customary Lewis Hamilton style getaway and once outside Oxford you will pretend it was all a bad dream.
To quote Russell Crowe in Gladiator: "Marcus Aurelius had a dream that was Rome . . . This is not it!!!"
P.S. Lenny Henry used to annoy me on that advert about the Premier Inn. He doesn't anymore.