Atami Tensui

The place was so unmarked that, approaching it, I couldn’t tell whether it was a hotel or a factory or warehouse. Grey steel doors opened automatically, but nobody was there to greet me. I wandered around looking for check-in and couldn’t find a counter. Eventually someone from the restaurant pointed me to a desk in the corner. I rang the bell, and a check-in manager came over. He spent nearly 30 minutes going through hotel rules while I was exhausted and just wanted my room. After all that, I got a key and headed up, only to find another guest already in the room. I went back to the desk. They casually handed me another key, and this time the room was empty. The decor was awful: two red walls, one green wall, and the fourth made of glass. Stop and Go? The wallpaper even had a texture like tree bark. It was too warm, so I opened the window, but cigarette smoke soon drifted in from the neighbor smoking on the balcony, even though the whole hotel is posted as non-smoking. I slept very poorly, stuck with the red and green walls and unable to leave the window open for fresh air. The next morning I hoped a bath would help me feel better. The much-touted bath felt like an afterthought, with room for only two bathers, or three if they’re friends. At checkout, the same middle-aged male manager who had given me the key to someone else’s room the day before was behind the desk. He demanded another 150 Yen in taxes, even though my employer had prepaid the reservation. He gave no explanation or apology for the room mix-up, just stood there impassively watching while I searched my bag for my coin purse. I can’t imagine why anyone would come back. The service felt impersonal and unfriendly, and the workers uncommunicative.