We were “welcomed” by a waitress whose attitude ranged somewhere between laziness and open disdain. When we asked if we could have dinner, she said she could ask if there was a table available, and in the meantime we could sit at one of the bar tables. We politely agreed.
What followed was over thirty minutes of watching her wander aimlessly, gossip with colleagues, and do anything but her job. Not once did she come over to give us an update. The only acknowledgment we got were occasional smug, condescending smiles — as if we were some sort of nuisance for daring to be there. When I finally asked if there were no tables, she casually admitted she hadn’t even bothered to check. Only then, after wasting half an hour of our evening, did she suggest she could “go and ask now.”
The hotel side was no better: faulty lamps, only one towel, mattresses caving in so badly you roll into the middle, and the constant roar of a kitchen ventilation unit right below our room, ensuring we couldn’t sleep before late at night or after dawn. This place is a masterclass in how to fail at hospitality.