Picture the scene. I'm going to the seaside with my sister. I can't wait to get away from the bustling city and relax, breathing in the fresh sea air while eating fish and chips. I imagine a quaint little seaside town with cobbled streets and homely B&B's run by a jolly lady with rosy cheeks. Flowery curtains and a steaming pot of tea to wake me up. Ahhh, bliss.
We didn't book anywhere to stay in Margate because we imagined it would be easy to find a room. How wrong and silly we were. Upon arriving in the time warped town of Margate in Kent, a journey which took four hours to go 50 miles, we were tired and hungry.
We found ourselves on the Canterbury road, a busy street leading to the seafront and lined with places to stay. We visited several B&B's all of which were full. We were getting rather desperate and faint in the 25 degrees sun, carrying our heavy bags, so walked straight up to the next place with a vacancy sign. This was the private Tyrella hotel, a three storey Georgian white house, 5 minutes from the beach. The basement was an Indian restaurant which looked quite trendy.
After ringing the bell several times, we were greeted by an unenthusiastic man with no shoes on who carried
a distinctive whiff of curry and sweat about him. Several small children scurried at his feet. He appeared to have a very poor grasp of the English language and the displayed prices mysteriously increased.
Any normal person would have major alarm bells ringing by now and would have politely declined, but who said we were normal, and besides, we were desperate.
So up we went to view our room, which he told us was "family room. Very nice. See sea". On going up the stairs, we were hit with the stench of curry and spices which pervaded the whole house, and not in a nice way. However, I presumed they had just cooked a lovely meal and the smell would be gone after a while. Unfortunately, the smell remained for the duration of our thankfully short visit and I imagine it's a permanent fixture of the house.
The peeling wallpaper in the corridor was a bad omen for what we were about to view. On stepping into the room, it looked slightly mismatched and "worn in", but there was two beds, a TV and it would do. By now it was too late. We handed our money over (£30 for the two of us, and a £5 key deposit) and with that we had consigned ourselves to spending a whole night of our little lives in that awful place.
Once we were left alone (without being shown the toilets or given any friendly hospitality), the cracks started to show. "Ugh, look at the sink". There were remainders of spit and gargled bits of toothpaste in the old fashioned plastic sink. Nice. We also had a used, old looking toothbrush for our use (how thoughtful) but no soap.
We were actually given a "family" room for the same price as a double, but how any family could fit into that room I don't know. There was one double bed and one single. The wallpaper was stripy, peeling , stained and there were several large holes in the walls. The bedcovers were a mismatched, cheap and nasty looking flowery pattern. They also stunk and I am sure they had not been washed previous to our arrival (or even in that year).
The room consisted of a double bed by a large window, a single bed, a wardrobe, sink with a mirror and a shabby armchair. We had a bedside table with a lamp on. The furniture was sturdy looking pine, but old and dusty. One window had a sea view (in the distance) and the other overlooked the main road and a large hotel opposite.
I found some old cigarette stubs and ash on the floor, accompanied by various bits of rubbish. There was a shower in the corner of the room, separated only by a dirty plastic curtain. Neither of us were brave enough to take a shower, so I can't comment further about that. The fact that we had only been provided with one stained tea towel between us made a shower seem even more unappealing. Then there was the issue of there being no hot water running from the taps. It just gets worse and worse. Still, at least we had a telly, albeit tiny and very fuzzy. By this point I was feeling very miserable at the thought of spending the night in this awful place. We decided we would try to air it a bit to get rid of the smell while we went out.
Before going out I decided to find the bathroom by myself even though I was apprehensive as to how much worse my birthday could possible get. The bathroom, once I found it, was passable apart from dangerous looking exposed wiring from the light. My sister stole some carpet freshener in the hope of freshening our room up a bit.
With a great sense of relief we went out, leaving the windows wide open and taking all personal and valuable possessions with us in fear that they would be rifled through otherwise.
We quietly slipped out, trying to avoid the dodgy man, but we obviously weren't as quiet as we thought, for a crowd of women and children gathered at the window to stare at us. Maybe we were the first and only visitors they had ever had. Didn't anyone ever tell them it's rude to stare?
We agreed not to return to our room until we were exhausted so as to avoid spending any more time there than necessary. In fact we even considered hiding in the pub and sleeping there, as it would have been cleaner, more comfortable and a far more pleasant experience.
On our return we crept up the stairs hoping to reach our room unnoticed. We were almost at our door when we heard a creak on the stairs. We cracked up laughing and made a frantic dash inside our room, locking ourselves in to escape No-Socks Man.
It wasn't quite as bad as we remembered (but the beer goggles may have helped). The air had circulated and by the light of our tacky map, with squinted eyes, it *almost* looked cosy.
Although it was summer, we both slept in trousers and long tops. We placed T Shirts on our pillows so our faces didn't have to touch them. Yes, it was that bad. I discovered that my bed had sharply protruding springs, so I slept on top of my pillow.
Surprisingly we both slept fairly well and were relieved to be alive and well, and not part of that days curry rations.
"I know, we'll watch TV in bed". Oh no, we won't. The TV which was fine last night, now mysteriously didn't turn on. Upon trying the light, my suspicions were confirmed. The electricity had been switched off. Whether this was due to the bill not being paid, or the owners being major cheapskates I don't know. By that time we just wanted to go.
On our way out, we eventually managed to get our deposit back from the huge family gathering downstairs. In our whole time there we saw no trace of other guests. I can't comment on the food available as we did not want to pay £3 for regurgitated curry. Needless to say, we won't be going back. No wonder the British seaside resorts are losing money.
My advice to you- if you are going away for the weekend, book first, go on recommendations and don't be a mug like we were.
In case you want to make a recommendation to an enemy, or you are an enviromental health officer, the address of the Tyrella Hotel is:
19 Canterbury Road Margate Kent
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Sounds vile! Hope they've closed it down by now. Joy
JessL 22.10.2003 19:04
Euch - I really enjoyed this op but it sounds like a horrible, horrible place! x
ndf9876 28.09.2003 17:52
There are a load of absolute dives in Margate; I took an ex-girlfriend there (whilst she was not an ex!) and had booked a hotel thinking it was a 4* luxury pad (it bore the same name as a luxury hotel in Brighton). When we arrived it was more like Fawlty Towers, a haven for the elderly and socially maladjusted! Still, we had a right laugh, got wasted most nights (to alleviate boredom of course) and as the weather was quite pleasant, did a lot of walking. You might have been better off at, say, the Hythe Imperial, in Hythe, which isn't a million miles from Margate!
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