Sexy and mysterious wafted thick through the air when we first set foot on its premises: a luxuriously red stronghold featuring bar, lounge and extensive whisky library wrapped around the lobby certainly had us pausing to catch our breaths. Subtle designer lighting sprinkled in corners, one eclectic art showcase (enchantingly named "Chaos" so we heard) keeping eternal vigil while snazzy music played endlessly to soothe souls...... paradise oh paradise. Cozying up with The Pedro Almodóvar Archives? Now that's some invitation.
Checking in was a painless affair thanks to a competent, amiable staff member who even went out of her way to personally show us to our room. As we rode the tiny elevator to the third floor, scenes from Marco Brambilla's 'Civilization' straddling heaven and hell played right next to our faces - an uneasy sense of foreboding began manifesting . Then its ascending another two flights of stairs to finally reach our executive club suite.
Once that door opened, hearts sank like anchors. For starters, calling 34 mere square meters of space a suite was sheer travesty. If anything, this was at best a glorified attic setup. Besides, the installation of an inconceivably large quantity of wooden furnishings rendered a stuffy, dated atmosphere within. Not to mention proper windows were obviously absent; three retractable skylights operating via remote control offered near zero decent views of the outside world despite craning our necks. Did we also just witness a basin top mounted barely steps away from the main living area??? Horrifyingly bad interior design decisions seriously.
Saving graces: the room was spotless, mattress genuinely snug (though we were rudely roused from slumber late at night by loud intermittent noises lasting a good 10-15 minutes) and shower head pressure excellent. Add to that the complimentary breakfast platter comprising sausages, sauteed mushroom and scrambled eggs on toasted sourdough bread tasted ridiculously good - more generous portions served would have been greatly appreciated.
All things considered, we would probably not return. Maybe only in the event of a zombie apocalypse to raid the whisky library and merrily drink ourselves to death.
https://www.hotelsandphotos.com/the-vagabond-club-review-march-2019
Checking in was a painless affair thanks to a competent, amiable staff member who even went out of her way to personally show us to our room. As we rode the tiny elevator to the third floor, scenes from Marco Brambilla's 'Civilization' straddling heaven and hell played right next to our faces - an uneasy sense of foreboding began manifesting . Then its ascending another two flights of stairs to finally reach our executive club suite.
Once that door opened, hearts sank like anchors. For starters, calling 34 mere square meters of space a suite was sheer travesty. If anything, this was at best a glorified attic setup. Besides, the installation of an inconceivably large quantity of wooden furnishings rendered a stuffy, dated atmosphere within. Not to mention proper windows were obviously absent; three retractable skylights operating via remote control offered near zero decent views of the outside world despite craning our necks. Did we also just witness a basin top mounted barely steps away from the main living area??? Horrifyingly bad interior design decisions seriously.
Saving graces: the room was spotless, mattress genuinely snug (though we were rudely roused from slumber late at night by loud intermittent noises lasting a good 10-15 minutes) and shower head pressure excellent. Add to that the complimentary breakfast platter comprising sausages, sauteed mushroom and scrambled eggs on toasted sourdough bread tasted ridiculously good - more generous portions served would have been greatly appreciated.
All things considered, we would probably not return. Maybe only in the event of a zombie apocalypse to raid the whisky library and merrily drink ourselves to death.
https://www.hotelsandphotos.com/the-vagabond-club-review-march-2019