The Dirtiest Hotel in Britain

I was in stitches today after a friend forwarded me this news.
I can’t believe the good old Nanford (to be pronounced in a gruff, scary voice) has moved up from number 2 last year to number 1 as the dirtiest hotel in Britain. How can you not clean up your act, so to speak, after being so publicly named and shamed? Brilliant.
After finishing at Keble I stayed at The Nanford two or three times when coming back to see friends who were still studying. I found it by accident – I can’t remember if I just knocked on the door or found it in the phone book, but it was very cheap and fitted my budget.
Even ten years ago it was, quite frankly, awful. But cheap. Not quite that awful for the cheapness to be worth it though, on reflection.
The first time I stayed there was after Keble Ball in 1998. I’d booked a room with a double bed by mistake, having asked for a double instead of a twin, not knowing much hotel lingo back then. The landlord, who was probably in his late thirties and who matched the comments made in <a href=""these reviews, looked at me and my friend very oddly when we both turned up. I always got the impression that he didn’t really want to be there and had inherited the place somehow and decided to stay on.
Highlights of my other stays were –
– a dog walking into the room early one morning, even though I’d locked the door.
– parking in the filthy car park behind it and seeing the cook smoking whilst cooking food.
– the collection of odd people living and apparently working there.
– the disgusting breakfast. Bacon is not meant to be served rare.
– the completely clashing furntiture, wallpaper and paint. It wasn’t bad taste, it was just a case of using anything to hand.
– hair embedded into the paint in one bathroom.
– showers and taps not working properly.
– filthy towels.
I’m amazed it’s still going. Given it’s prime position I’d have thought the owner would be better off selling up than keeping up the hassle of running it.
Still, at the time it was cheap and served its purpose. In 1998 its sign post was already leaning over precariously and rotting away. Ah, those golden years.

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