From the outside, the place looked pretty solid—nothing fancy, but not sketchy either. The lobby also gave off strong "we're trying our best" vibes. Then we started the treasure hunt to find our room… and that's when we were greeted by the ever-welcoming sight of caution tape across some doors. Nothing says "relaxing stay" quite like wondering if you're walking into a crime scene or a construction zone. (Fingers crossed it's just a remodel and not a haunted hotel situation.)
The keypad to our room had a real personality—it clearly enjoyed playing hard to get. Took a few tries before it finally let us in like a moody teenager.
We opened the door and boom—darkness, and a smell that can only be described as a dramatic blend of stale cigarettes and "mystery animal." (Possibly wet dog, possibly werewolf. Jury’s still out.) Flicked on the lights, and they immediately started flickering like we were in a discount horror film. All we needed was a creepy violin screech.
Then we looked down and saw the carpet. Ragged, frayed, and clearly clinging to life with every fiber of its being—pun absolutely intended.
We had booked a double queen room. What we got was a king bed and a sleeper couch that looked like it was made for garden gnomes. Our two petite kids ended up sleeping so close they were practically fused into one tiny human.
On the plus side, the king bed was comfy! The pillows, however, were flatter than my enthusiasm for surprise horror lighting. We didn’t get to try the breakfa