Last weekend, I was treated to a weekend in Brighton, one of our favourite places in the UK to just wander round with no real plan. It was a last minute decision, which unfortunately didn’t leave us much choice in hotel rooms. We normally stay at The Old Ship, but it was all sold out. Our other back-ups were equally booked up, so we just threw caution to the wind and went all out with a room at The Grand.
I’m always somewhat bitter at spending a lot of money on a hotel room. Having stayed at amazing hotels in Las Vegas for well under £100 per night, anything more than that feels obscene. We had a bloody nice room, but secretly I don’t believe it was worth what they charged. Eh. But, we weren’t expecting to see the sea, and look!
SEA! Bonus! We did have to lean into the window to see it, but it was definitely there. Incidentally, the Salt Room was somewhere we tried to book for dinner that night but they didn’t have any tables. It’s owned by the same people who own the Coal Shed, one of our favourites, so we had high hopes. We couldn’t get into the Coal Shed either. Curse our lack of planning.
The rest of our stay in Brighton was mostly smooth sailing. We did a spot of shopping in the North Laine, had a coffee at the Small Batch Coffee shop, and had a quick walk on the beach.
Once we got back to the room, we decided we couldn’t be bothered to find a restaurant, so ordered room service. Oh my god. It was so good. I expected it to be a bit meh, but it was delicious.
Until 11pm when a very loud party started up in the function room below ours. We could hear every single word the terrible covers band was singing, it was almost as if they were in the same room. We put up with it for a bit, hoping that they’d shut up soon, but we soon lost patience and phoned reception to see if we could be moved. We could not.
The music stopped sometime after 1am and we finally got to sleep. I am aware that many people go to Brighton to party into the small hours of the morning, but I am a cranky old woman and I need my sleep!
Breakfast the next morning was a standard affair – yummy eggs and bacon – and soon it was check out time. What usually happens in this situation is we have a grumble about our lack of sleep, the receptionist smiles sympathetically, and everyone moves on with their lives. This time round was different. This time round made me understand why The Grand is a fancy hotel. Because this time, we were met by the Front Desk Manager who sat us down in the lounge, apologised profusely, and invited us back. FOR FREE! And in a sea view room no less.
So we’ll be going again in a couple of weeks time. YAY!