“Wenn du deinem Feind eine Unterkunft buchen willst, dann hier”
The staff were friendly and there was a secure parking lot. If you’ve ever dreamed of staying in your own biowaste, congratulations, you’re in the right place! The moment I opened the door, a scent hit me that’s hard to describe—a masterful mix of damp basement, fungal colony, and neglected dripstone cave. Without a respirator, sleep was impossible—we seriously wondered if a corpse was wedged in the wall. The “window” was missing, probably to protect our lungs. Natural light would likely just insult the fluffy mold ceiling on the wall. The “bed blanket” was a towel‑sized textile fragment that had probably seen better decades. It wasn’t clear whether it was meant as a blanket, footstool, or archaeological relic. The bathroom was a humiliating farce: no sink, no toilet paper, no way to feel human. It seemed as if someone had just held a hose in a cell and called the whole thing a bathroom. Three stars? This place deserves none. Not even dust. The only stars I saw were in front of my eyes as I tried to breathe in this air. This accommodation is not a joke—it’s a warning. Bottom line: if you want to book a place for your enemy, go here. For everyone else: run. Just run. But the innkeeper was super nice!
Lukasمنذ سنة