I stayed here for just one night; I was working in the area the next day.
I was checked in by a very friendly guy. He offered to help me with my luggage (a wheelie bag not much bigger than an attache case), and when I said I was OK, he didn't make a big deal about it. I like that; there's nothing worse than having a guy wheeling your tiny case to your room, while you look like an idiot, following behind him.
Anyway, the room was spotlessly clean and toasty warm. The bathroom was also very clean, with floor-to-ceiling ceramic tiles that kinda looked like marble, if you squinted a bit. There was a bath and a separate shower. I elected to go for the shower, which had one of those sliding glass doors. It was missing one of its little wheelie things at the top though, so it glided along its rails the way a sack of spuds glides across a cobbled road. I decided to give the shower a miss; a large plate glass door supported by just one little wheel at the top didn't fill me with confidence - it conjured up images of my naked body being found days later, with six-inch spikes of glass puncturing me in numerous places.
The bath seemed to be a better bet. The plug (a metal one with a groove around it that normally holds a rubber ring) didn't have its rubber ring. I figured I'd have to keep topping up the bath to make up for all of the water that leaked down the plughole, which wouldn't have been very environmentally friendly. But I turned out to be wrong; it actually let hardly any water out. As the bath filled, I selected one of the tasty tubes of bath gel and squeezed the whole lot in, intending to have a bubble bath like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Alas, all I got was a measly few bubbles which fizzled out almost as soon as I got in. Maybe she was using the industrial-strength stuff, or maybe the water in my hotel was so hard that working up a lather was an impossibility. Anyway, I relaxed nonetheless.
While lying in the bath, I noticed that the wash basin was hanging out from the counter-top it was mounted on. I didn't investigate further, but it really did look like the only thing holding the ceramic basin to the worktop was a bit of silicone sealant. I hope some poor kid doesn't hang out of the basin some day, and have the whole thing tip down on top of him. I also noticed, from my lower-than-usual eye level in the bath, that there were lumps of what looked like chewing gum under the counter. Could have been left there from when somebody parked it there while washing their teeth, and then forgot to put it back in their mouth. On closer inspection, though, it was left-over silicone sealant, where the plumber must've just wiped it off his finger. The counter top seemed to have quite a bit of silicone residue on it; there must've been some bad silicone experiences in my bathroom at sometime in the past. I think I'd have sacked the plumber.
More casual inspection while lying in the bath showed that the plumbing to the cold tap (or faucet, for you people in North America) was all corroded, as was the plughole. It looked like the hot water supply was treated, but that the cold supply was neglected to the point where it started to rebel. It looked like the water was either quite acidic or quite caustic, or both. Probably not both - that would be chemically difficult, I think. The taps (a victorian-style affair, with 'telephone' type shower attachment mounted on top) were quite loose; worryingly so. I treated them with quite a bit of respect, for fear that my touch would be enough to prompt a leak.
Anyway, it didn't leak while I was there, so I rinsed myself off with the shower, notcing that the hot supply was at significantly lower pressure than the cold, so the hot tap had to be turned fully on, with the cold tap turned to pretty much exactly 120 degrees anti-clockwise (counter-clockwise for you people in North America). At 119 degrees, the shower was scaldingly hot; at 121 degrees it was too cold. I realise, as I type this, that mentioning 'degrees', 'hot' and 'cold' in the same sentence is at best demonstrating my poor command of the English language, and at worst going to cause confusion; my apologies.
Exiting not very gracefully from the bath, I reached for a towel, which was fluffy and warm. Toasty warm, in fact - probably because it was on a heated towel rail. I was pondering this fact as I dried myself, thinking that the fluffy warm towels really made up for all of the other rather trivial bathroom matters. However, this caused me to not concentrate on the matter in hand, and my bottom briefly touched the towel rail, giving me quite a start. You'll be relieved to hear that it didn't result in any permanent scarring though. Testing with my hand, the towel rail was hotter than you could comfortably hold for more than half a second.
There was a nice Villeroy and Boch toilet, which received my offerings without complaint. Toilet rolls (two of them) both had their loose ends origami'd into little triangles (can anybody tell me why hotels do this? I'd love to get the person who started that stupid trend and give them a good slapping; I can't think of anything more pointless).
So that was really the end of my adventure in the bathroom. Clearly, I lead an uneventful life. I went downstairs and had dinner in the bar. Nothing remarkable; typical bar food.
The bed was like heaven; king-sized and comfy, with perfectly clean sheets and absolutely no traces of bed bugs (yes, unfortunately, based on previous unpleasant experience, I now check every hotel bed I sleep in). The room was completely silent. I mean totally silent; no noise from above, below, outside, inside, no A/C noise, nothing. I slept like the dead.
The hotel was a little more expensive than what you could get in the area, but it was a lot nicer. I figured it was worth the extra pampering, given that I was going to be working in a pig slaughterhouse the next day. True story.
There are loads of other things here that I can't comment on, because I didn't get a chance to sample them. Like the leisure centre, which apparently boasts a 25m pool, and also extensive cool-looking grounds, which I only saw from inside my car on the way in, and on the way back out again.
Would I stay here again? Definitely!
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- Also Known As:
- Marriott Johnstown Hotel Enfield
- Marriott County Meath
- Marriott Enfield
- County Meath Marriott