If you’ve ever wanted to pay premium prices to experience life inside a paper-thin shoebox, this is your spot. From the moment I arrived, I knew I was in for a treat — if that treat was sleep deprivation, barking dogs, and a symphony of footsteps from the room above that sounded like a tap dance recital at 3 a.m.
The “room” came with a portable bed that looked like it was borrowed from a summer camp, and room service was a fantasy that died with my first phone call to the front desk. Trash cans throughout the property were stacked higher than my expectations (which wasn’t saying much) — looked like a real-life game of garbage Jenga.
And let’s not forget the 24-hour river of wasted water flowing through the parking lot — impressive in a state where water is basically gold. Bravo, hotel management, for single-handedly destroying the environment and my weekend.
Prestige location? Sure. Prestigious experience? Not even close. Highly not recommended unless you enjoy paying for misery wrapped in noise and neglect.