The staff on the ground are clearly trying their best and deserve a medal for effort. Unfortunately, the higher-ups seem to have adopted a strict ‘see no evil, smell no evil’ policy when it comes to actually checking or maintaining the rooms.
Without exaggeration, this was hands-down the foulest-smelling accommodation my partner and I have ever endured. The bathroom toilet wasn’t properly sealed, so it was cheerfully venting raw sewer gas into our living space like it was doing us a favor. We politely messaged the property—twice—to report it. They sent the cleaning lady once (props to her—she did a heroic job with what she had), but the stench laughed in her face and carried on unchanged.
In desperation, I turned into a one-person drain-unclogging SWAT team: dumped laundry detergent, dish soap, blasted the pipes with the shower head on jet mode… nothing. Turns out it wasn’t a clog; the toilet was just openly cosplaying as an open sewer grate.
We ended up sleeping with the bathroom door barricaded shut like it was containing a biohazard. Every morning and evening became a frantic window-and-front-door-opening ceremony just to make the room breathable again. The bathroom fan? Non-functional—shocking, I know. The air conditioner was on its last legs, wheezing and rattling like it was auditioning for a horror movie. We had to run it on the lowest setting with the lowest fan setting where it decided after one night to drop a puddle on the floor.
So yah, you be the judge.
