Megan F.
The $150 night plus a $100 damage deposit didn’t feel like a good deal, especially when I was lying awake with psychosomatic itching from worrying about the dirt. It was like a comedy sketch, except not a good one. In the first 15 minutes, the fire alarm kept going off until the fire department came and did a full inspection. They found it was “of no particular cause.” Half the building seemed boarded up. We’d called ahead about the pool and were told it was open and working, but it wasn’t. Our room was across the street in another building, reached by an underground tunnel. The ground floor looked like the Silent Hill hospital, and water was pouring from the ceiling onto the carpet in part of it. The room hadn’t been cleaned properly. The sheets were stained, the bathroom faucet was grimy, and someone else’s towels were in the shower. The only place to change near the pool was a basement that felt straight out of a horror movie and smelled strongly of sulfur. At the pool, the chemicals seemed badly off: the water was opaque, with scum floating on top. We weren’t getting in. Swallowing that water could mean a skin infection or worse.
