I recently re-visited my old home town of Methil (or Levenmouth, as the local minions of the bureaucratic State insist on calling it!). The wife and I were attending a family get-together. It was a chance to renew old ties and acquaintances.
We stayed in a local hotel. Boy, was that a mistake! The service was non-existent, the room was decrepit, the cleaning was sub-standard. The hotel was utterly unsuited to guests who have the unfortunate burden of mobility problems. All fairly typical of a third-rate hotel (you will note that I said ‘third-rate’ – I have stayed in better third-world hotels!).
The star act was undoubtedly The Receptionist! Being top of the bill, she only made an appearance in the final act. I have never been shouted at, by a hotel receptionist before. She was obnoxious, loud, and the merest thought of dealing with guest complaints, drove her to demented heights of rudeness and rage. Needless to say, we will never stay in this hotel again. Ever.
I composed a letter of complaint (I am getting quite practiced in these matters), and sent it off to the head office of the brewery chain that runs this hotel. I was polite, to the point, and omitted no detail that was relevant. I used a very sharp blade! I took no hostages.
To their credit, the people at the brewery chain responded promptly, investigated the matter, and offered a full apology and an immediate refund. I accepted this, on the condition that they ensured that no disabled person is, in the future, ever treated to such a course of contempt and disdain.
I have not named the hotel, nor the brewery chain. I consider this matter settled. But, if things had proceeded otherwise, then I would not have hesitated to publicize this whole, sorry affair.
To balance this event, and prove that not all hotels in Fife are terrible, let me mention the Royal Hotel in Dysart. We turned up one evening, unannounced, no booking. They served an excellent evening meal. The staff were unobtrusive, but their timing was immaculate. The food was excellent (in my Top 5 meals of all time, worldwide). It isn’t a big fancy place, but their standards were of the highest. Highly recommended.
Dysart is right in the centre of that part of Fife ignored by Olympic Torch runners, golfers, upper-class socialites, and inept politicians. It is not within commuting distance of anywhere. It is the ‘Beggar’s Mantle’ when the ‘Fringe of Gold’ ran out. Real people live there, and times are hard. They deserve a mention.