The Swan Hotel, Royal Tunbridge Wells

...to find a decent hotel. The town is very popular with tourists, but modern, well-equipped hotels are still quite few and far between in the town centre. My corporate booking agency finally came up with The Swan so that’s where I ended up.

The hotel is situated approximately ten minutes walk from the train station, right in the middle of The Pantiles – the main shopping/tourist attraction in the town. One side of the hotel ...
...the main road through the town centre – the other side looks out onto the pedestrianised Pantiles. Needless to say, the roadside is infinitely less attractive than the other, so I was a little bit dubious as I made my way into the building.

The Swan is not unlike something out of Fawlty Towers. The décor is very old-fashioned, and in many places extremely worn. A receptionist greeted me indifferently from behind a tiny desk, ... more

On a recent business trip to Tunbridge Wells in Kent, I was rather hard pressed to find a decent hotel. The town is very popular with tourists, but modern, well-equipped hotels are still quite few and far between in the town centre. My corporate booking agency finally came up with The Swan so that’s where I ended up.

The hotel is situated approximately ten minutes walk from the train station, right in the middle of The Pantiles – the main shopping/tourist attraction in the town. One side of the hotel (the side where the main entrance is) faces directly onto the main road through the town centre – the other side looks out onto the pedestrianised Pantiles. Needless to say, the roadside is infinitely less attractive than the other, so I was a little bit dubious as I made my way into the building.

The Swan is not unlike something out of Fawlty Towers. The décor is very old-fashioned, and in many places extremely worn. A receptionist greeted me indifferently from behind a tiny desk, and as I stood at the desk checking in I had a feeling of being encroached – there were all sorts of doors leading into the entranceway with staff scurrying everywhere. It certainly wasn’t a relaxing venue – I was quite glad to get to my room – which was no easy feat I can assure you. Once I’d checked in, the grim-faced receptionist escorted me up to my room that was located on the third or fourth floor through a myriad of stairways and passages.

The room itself was pleasant enough – fairly large and airy with big sash windows that filled the room with natural light. Although it was a relatively hot evening, the windows had been open all day, and the room was pleasantly cool. The bedroom had its own en-suite bathroom, as well as a (very small) portable television with satellite channels. The furnishings and décor were respectable enough, but extremely old-fashioned – the room had a distinct Steptoe and Son feel to it. The bed was a sort of four-poster meets MFI kind of affair with a strange fabric arrangement of drapes and all the light shades were pink and silky with endless amounts of tassels. Your grandma would probably like it, but I have to say that I thought it was revolting. What made it worse was that the carpet in the room was absolutely filthy – although it had been vaccum-cleaned it was covered in stains and spot marks. I have absolutely no idea what had been going on, but someone had made a real mess.

The bathroom was relatively clean – it took me a while to find the towels that were expertly hidden behind the door on a towel rail. The shower was powerful (probably too powerful) but there was plenty of hot water so I was quite happy – until I stepped out of the shower. The shower did not have a curtain, only a plastic screen which swung to and fro. Despite the fact that I had the screen in place, the rest of the bathroom was absolutely drenched, where spray from the shower had hit the wall, the screen and the bath and ricocheted into the room. I had to order more towels simply to lay on the floor, which was like a big puddle. When I complained to reception, the receptionist was semi-apologetic but came out with the usual line of “nobody else has complained”. Oh, that’s all right then.

After I had finally got dressed, I decided to venture downstairs to see what the restaurant was like. The hotel does not offer room service (although they will bring continental breakfast to the room if you request) but there is a public bar and restaurant downstairs. Before going into the restaurant I asked at reception for a copy of the menu, just to get an idea of what was on offer. The food was averagely priced, but there was only a choice of two or three courses. Despite this, I was still considering eating in the restaurant when I happened to notice a member of staff in the sitting-room, still dressed in whites, smoking a cigarette and scratching his arse. Suddenly, the “crepes Suzettes” seemed rather less appetising and I opted for a Chinese takeaway instead.

The hotel is certainly well placed for visitors to enjoy the town of nighttime. There are a number of bars and restaurants located close by, and at peak times The Pantiles plays host to street-artists and entertainers. Directly underneath my window, a group of local residents were playing bowls and there was a very relaxed, gentle atmosphere. This was rather spoilt by the other side of the hotel, where the main road was infested with boy racers and motorbikes until the early hours – which also meant that the road was very treacherous to cross.

I paid £64 for one night’s bead and breakfast (although the arse-scratching incident meant that I didn’t partake in breakfast). I would suggest that for tourists the hotel provides a relatively decent, central base from which to explore Tunbridge Wells but if I were to return here, I probably wouldn’t stay in this hotel again. The service and reception were far from what one might expect, the facilities are shabby and generally quite dirty – and the kitchen staff was rather off-putting. It would probably be wiser to book into one of the Travel Inns located on the outskirts of town and drive in – they are cleaner, cheaper and at least if you catch the receptionist scratching her backside you can ask for a refund….
 

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