I don't know what it is about the Marriott hotel chain and
me, but I rarely book a night in a Marriott deliberately; it's always a kind of
necessity. In fact, the last time that I did book on purpose was in Cleveland,
Ohio, USA, or it might have been Atlanta, Georgia: probably both of them. So
perhaps I'd better take that remark back, or at least a little bit of it,
because I've also stayed in a Marriott in Brussels, on the Grand Place, but
that was back in the early noughties. Let's just say that, for some reason,
Marriott isn't my first choice. There's no outright reason for this; it's not
that I don't like Marriott hotels, far from it, but this week, once again, I
found myself staying in a Marriott because I had to; the last time was in
Chicago at O'Hare airport when my flight to London was cancelled and there was
no alternative. This time it was my own stupid fault for overdoing things,
getting generally carried away with life and chatting that I forgot the sorry
fact that the last train out of Liverpool, headed for London, was at some
ridiculously early hour, something like 2130hrs.
The alcohol didn't help either, but I won't bore you with
the details of my derelict state, just let's say I wasn't on top form and I
never seem to learn a simple lesson: know when to stop.
There's nothing worse than staying in a hotel without a
toothbrush or a change of clothes and if you add to that the general weariness
brought about by drinking too much and the mildly – alright, seriously – angst-ridden state of mind I found
myself in, then you won't be surprised to learn that I didn't sleep well. I
must have hit the sack around 11pm after enjoying hot food downstairs in front
of the television (for some reason I had ordered another glass of red wine
(another one!!!) but I realised the error of my ways and ignored it.
I awoke around 3.30am unable to sleep and in need of water
and so I dressed and paid a visit to the front desk three floors below me. The
receptionist told me that because the hotel was deemed to be a public building
all the tap water was drinkable, so, having ordered a large bottle of still
mineral water I went upstairs and drank copious amounts of tap water while I
paced the room debating what to do next. Get the really early train home, or
the slightly later one? But soon I realised that all of them were classed as
'on peak' and that I'd be paying upwards of £200 if I decided to leave
Liverpool early. I went back to bed around 0500hrs and then awoke around
0700hrs, not feeling brilliant. I took a much needed shower (excellent as
everything worked fine) and then hit the breakfast room, but could only manage
Alpen, tea, a yoghurt and a banana.
The Marriott was fine. It did the job. The woman on the
front desk was good, the breakfast was fine, although there was a strange smell
that kind of put me off a bit and made me feel a little ill.
My hotel room was pretty standard, nothing to write home
about, and the last thing I was in the mood for was the television so I never
switched it on.
A room for the night, a bowl of Alpen, a mug of tea and a
banana cost me £144.00. The alternative would have been to find a park bench
somewhere in the city and see the night out as a vagrant. No sir!
One thing I wasn't impressed with was the so-called
'business centre'. It was little more than a printer and a tablet in the lobby.
Writing emails proved difficult as was accessing my work email system. I would
much have preferred a proper keyboard, but each to their own.
I can't grumble too much about this hotel because it was
fine. The room was good, the shower was fine, the room service was fine, the
breakfast did the job, the location was close to the station, but also bang in
the centre of town and was fine too. And what I did like was the screen behind
the front desk advertising other Marriotts around the world: Hotels with
wonderful pools in wonderful locations. And when you're a little hungover and
you see alluring images of still swimming pools in hot climes, well, it works
wonders.
And let’s not forget the staff – all very friendly. Top
marks to the early morning receptionist and the guy who checked me out.
I made my way to Lime Street railway station where I ordered
a medium-sized tea and a heated sausage baguette, plus another banana. I won't
say it did the trick, but it helped.
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