Durrant House Hotel

Since I started qyping I find myself going into ‘pseudo-​hotel-​inspector’ mode every time I go away. I wonder if I had never heard of Qype whether I’d stop picking fault with places, or whether I’m just naturally exceptionally fussy.
Anyhoo. The Durrant House Hotel is very handily located a mile or so north of Bideford, and is, as I discovered, very popular with coach tours. It’s also clearly undergone a bit of a facelift recently as the flatscreen TVs and plush scatter cushions show. But it’s not all about appearance. The pongy drain-​smell every time I used the sink meant I had to keep the bathroom door shut at all times. The lack of any air conditioning led to me keeping the window open and having to listen to the tired hotel entertainment singing country versions of every song that shouldn’t be country-​fied, such as ‘I Did it My Way’ and ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’. And as lovely and modern and swish as the massive leather headboard/​sculpture looks, it was so wide that the switches for the over-​the-​bed spotlights were miles away and couldn’t be reached without getting out of bed. What hotel doesn’t give you a bedside lamp? Oh. The Durrant House Hotel, sorry, that was a stupid question.
The service at breakfast was a bit ‘meh’, with me hovering at the ‘wait to be seated’ sign for five minutes while waiting staff walked past and smiled at me before I approached one and said ‘I’d like breakfast please’. The continental breakfast (for once I couldn’t face a full english), promising me a selection of continental hams and cheeses, consisted of some salami and edam. And there was no fresh fruit. And my toast was limp, and my juice glass tasted of dishwasher water, and I left feeling decidedly grumpy.
The bed was comfy though. And there were biscuits. And I had my own iron and ironing board. And a sofa. They were definite pluses.
For £65 a night B&B it’s not bad. But it’s not mega.