!!!AVOID!!! OWNER ATTACKED ME !!!AVOID!!!
Canoa’s a nice place and there are plenty of hotels. Seriously, just go find one of those; Bambu, Coco Loco, Baloo. You don’t want to stay at The Coconut. Seriously.
Because the owner is mentally unstable.
As in he attacks guests with physical violence when he doesn’t understand or like what they say. Or maybe when he’s drunk? Mind alight with harder drugs? I don’t know what his deal is, but he assaulted me my last night. Oh yeah, like raging bloodlust full-on cage-match style ferocity. Like an animal in his eyes, not a man. What, this doesn’t convince you? Ok, let me explain.
I stayed at The Coconut for a month and a half, maybe more. During the majority of that time the owner was the sole employee of the hotel. The first couple weeks were fine, though I did notice a striking tendency of the owner, whilst conversing, to either completely ignore any point made by anyone other than himself, or, if acknowledging the point, went on to assert that he knew all about that, had already done that in ways you could never dream of, so there was no need to talk about it ever again. Charming, I thought, but not a deal-breaker. After a few weeks he berated us (I was at that time traveling with another) one night over not doing enough to help out around the place. Excuse me, I thought again, is the money we hand you no longer sufficient? Said that we were roommates, not guests, and we could do more for ourselves (like fixing the gas tanks that - oh so very rarely - heated the water for bathing, or mopping, etc.). All of which would be fine of course, except that nothing of the sort had been worked out at the beginning, and as far as I was concerned it was a little late to be agreeing on a lease. This was mostly laughable, childlike behavior, so at the time I took it as such. Then Mateo, one of his buddies (who stayed at The Coconut six months prior to my arrival), came over one night on a three-day ‘partying’ blitz. Not my scene so I went to bed. I was awoken the next morning by fire sirens, police crawling around the building, huge plumes of smoke hovering overhead (eldiario.com.ec/noticias-manabi-ecuador/…). The buddy in question had apparently set fire to a moto-scooter, the owners car. Burned them to cinders. Luckily the wind was blowing northerly so the hotel wasn’t touched, no one was hurt. Hmm, I thought to myself, this is a deal-breaker; this and the fact the owner decided to use the tragedy to blame every single citizen of the United States of America (where Mateo is from) for his misfortune. I’m from the states, hate discrimination and bigotry in all its forms, didn’t find this very convincing or logical at all. Find it acceptable. Made plans to leave. Before I could, one night while researching online, the owner comes home in a particular state. Same type of state that his ‘buddy’ had been in that fateful night. Urged me to join the celebrations though I had no interest. A few days later he did something that sealed it: he lied directly to my face without batting an eye. Told me, my travel companion, that he doesn’t ‘party’ like that, that that was what started this whole mess and he wanted nothing to do with it; except that just two nights before he couldn’t get enough! I stood there entire time trying to figure out if a camera was on me. If it was a joke, prank. It was not. He spoke as if he actually believed what he was saying; now I’m not trained to assert this, but I have to say the experience possessed a tinge of the psychotic. The events of my last night confirming it beyond all doubt.
Yes. The last night. He was carrying on again about how terrible the states are, our culture and the way we treat each other, disparaging an entire country because of the errors in his life. I’d had quite enough of all that drivel by the time, told him, in a clearly jocular tone, if that’s really the way all Americans are I better “finish what Mateo started”. That’s when he assaulted me. Grabbed my hair, tore at my glasses. Screaming nonsense about murder, death, showing someone something. Came after me a few times with full-throttle brutality. Being in better shape it wasn’t hard to evade the brunt of his attack, push him off. I left soon after.
Sure. All of this is just one man’s experience. But ...
It’s your vacation.
If there is even one chance in a hundred that you’d be staying with, paying, a psychotic proprietor who lies, discriminates, resorts to violence against guests - would you take it?
Do you have kids? Someone you love?
If so don’t take them to The Coconut. Don’t risk it. Don’t go there yourself. Canoa’s got plenty of other hotels.