Snob

I guess I really am a snob.

In my middle age, I’ve grown accustomed to a certain level of comfort and cleanliness when I travel.

The Baymont Inn & Suites in Traverse City has delivered a comfortable bed, and surprisingly plush towels, and better pillows than a Holiday Inn Express.

traversecity2-7But this squat, bunkeresque hotel provides a middling breakfast (with nothing hot available on Sunday); leaves cleaning carts by the side of the elevator when not in use, visible the moment one walks through the front door (not an inspiring or welcoming sight to a weary traveler); is in desperate need of a make-over, so dated are the fixtures and furnishings when compared with other hotels in the same price range; and doesn’t inspire when I find two burned-out light bulbs in my room, including the one in the toilet/shower room.

And . . . no amount of Febreeze can cover the staleness of the air in the rooms and hallway.

The night manager was friendly enough.  The wall-unit heater was quiet enough — a far cry from the howling, raucous AC at that Red Roof Inn in Chicago.

I can’t help but think, though, that the 24-hour cleaning cart is enough to earn demerits from franchise quality assurance folks.

(Tripadvisor seems to confirm my quibbles.)

I guess I really am a snob.

 

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