A bit of a bizarre experience. We were looking for a two bedroom apartment in Berlin, and mistakingly found ourselves in what’s best described as a hallway of private rooms masquerading under the term “hotel.”
Calling this a hotel is like calling Panda Express “Chinese food.” A hotel has a daily cleaning service and some sort of concierge. This “hotel” has two twin beds smushed together in a bleak, and confusing cave space. Where the towels shrivel wet on racks waiting for their next dance with your nude body.
Finally, we were essentially interrogated by the reception lady upon arrival, asked to place our bags in the lobby and “sit in the reception area” like a visit to the principles.
“What are you doing in Berlin,” she asked kindly.
Well, here’s the deal. I just spent 12 hours traveling on a train to be here. What I’m doing in this city is not of your concern. I’m tired and I want a shower. (The showers are the best part of the hotel btw)
It’s just a bit of a strange place. Not terrible, not great. Just a bit weird.