ОСТАВЬ НАДЕЖДУ, ВСЯК СЮДА ВХОДЯЩИЙ @ДАНТЕ АЛИГЬЕРИ LEAVE HOPE, EVERYBODY ENTERING HERE @DANTE ALIGIERI

Hotels are different: excellent, good, nothing, bad, a shelter for the homeless in Khatsapetovka, disgusting, Alexei Panin's apartment, and right behind it the banner of the crown of the tourist bottom "Kromer Garden" proudly flies. My daughter and I arrived at this rooming house on August 30 closer to the night. I have never been to a columbarium, but for some reason it seems that "Kromer Garden" is made exactly in his image and likeness. A dull gloomy building in the light of a few half-dimmed lanterns would certainly have inspired Alfred Hitchcock to write another blood-curdling thriller.

At the reception, we were met by an average unfriendly type, let's call him "Dryshch" conditionally, with whom we turned out to be very similar in terms of the fact that he speaks Russian about the same as I speak Turkish. Of course, there was no talk of any dinner for late arrivals.

Drysch's courtesy was completely undone when I refused to move into a room on the third floor, which had competed with a matchbox in size and won it. The room was really tiny. Immediately from the entrance began a double bed with a terribly narrow passage along the wall to the shower and toilet. on the other side of the bed there was about the same amount of free space up to the window. I did not even go into this room, with gestures suggesting that he himself spend his whole life in this nook.

Mentally dismembering me into eighteen parts with a scimitar, the withered descendant of the formidable Janissaries with the grandeur of a royal bedchamber gave me the key to another room, already on the floor below. Looking into it, I saw an almost complete copy of the previous one, the only difference was that the aisles are truly gorgeous, half a meter each.
Again a dispute ensued, the victory in which was won by a descendant of spherical-carriers, on the side of which were the Turkish night, our fatigue and his oath with his potency to relocate us to a normal room the next morning.

The next morning, we were really moved to another, fairly good room, on the ground floor, in which, in addition to two beds, there was a TV, air conditioning, a dressing table with a mirror, two bedside tables on both sides of a double bed, a wardrobe, a hairdryer and even a refrigerator. Bingo!

Arriving at 7.00 for breakfast, I was surprised to find that not only was there no breakfast, but there was also no staff that should bring this breakfast. Even the coffee machine didn't work. By the way, the coffee in this machine sucks, but this is the problem of all Turkish hotels. And there is no "hot chocolate", in Russian, cocoa. There is a button, but there is no cocoa, sadness for my daughter with a sweet tooth.
By half past seven, incorporeal spirits with swollen faces, melancholy in the eyes and tremors in the limbs began to pull themselves up, none other than those who had risen from hell with the spells of Dryshch from the reception. It turns out that yesterday was the Turkish Victory Day and the friendly drunken team of our under-hotel celebrated it just as amicably. During the ten days of our stay, breakfast was served on time three or four times. Also, the waiters have a strange habit, immediately after they have arranged the dishes, to put food on themselves and then, having taken a table among the rest, eat calmly. Well, bon appetit to them.


I won’t lie about the quality of food, for ten days spent in Kromer Garden, there was a slightly sour salad a couple of times, and nothing, not at my grandmother’s house, but you won’t get poisoned and you won’t leave hungry.
It was a little annoying that the pasta that had not been eaten at dinner could well end up in the evening salad, but no one forces him to eat it, there are others without pasta, although it’s a matter of taste, with me some ladies put this salad on themselves. The choice of dishes is mediocre, but the residents of neighboring hotels cried when I told how many options for dishes we serve for breakfast-lunch-dinner, they generally got into the "Who had time, he ate" contest.

Of course, the topic of alcoholic beverages, or rather, their absence, deserves a separate topic. Before that, I have not seen hotels in Turkey where there is no beer. Let low alcohol, but it is everywhere. There are hotels where, out of stinginess, beer is poured into 150-milliliter glasses, but not at all ...But there is shmurdyak of unknown origin, from unknown components, bottled, which the hostess proudly, looking straight into her eyes, according to the principle "God's dew", calls excellent wine.
I'm not a great wine specialist, in fact, I'm not a wine specialist, but it seems to me that you will not find such "exclusive" wines as in this hmm ...hotel anywhere else. If we hold a competition for non-alcohol content between this drink and our "Pinocchio", it's not a fact that a wooden long-nosed friend from childhood will win.

Regarding the cleanliness of the rooms. The hotel has a rounded bodysuit in pink shorts, responding to the word Aizat, flashing brightly after the end of the working day, but which can not be found if you need to clean the room, change towels, linen or wash the floor. She is a Kyrgyz, she scratches in Russian no worse than those who are reading this now, but she has the audacity to answer the guests’ requests to answer “No Russian”, “Ay Dont Andastend” or say that her working day is already over, because it is up to four , up to three, up to two, according to the scheme: you asked for something at 14.20, which means up to fourteen.

Sometimes I really wanted to shoot her a penalty in a place that rhymes well with her name.

In addition to Russians and Ukrainians, Turks also live in the hotel, and it was not particularly pleasant to see their women, in black robes from head to toe, splashing in the pool. A couple of times it happened that the waiters who got drunk right in their clothes jumped into the pool and splashed in it, right after dinner, and why be shy, the kind hostess will not fire you. There was a case with me that at a time when guests, including children, were swimming in the pool, Dryshch threw bleach into it. And so the pool is nothing, the pool is good.

Good hotel reviews. In my presence, the hostess asked the guests to put fives on some site, handed out Wi-Fi from her phone for this, and made sure that everyone left positive reviews.
It was the eighth or ninth of September, if you come across a few positive reviews on some site for these numbers, know where the ears grow from and why the hotel with disgusting staff, service and cleanliness has such a high rating.

The presence of many cats on the territory of the hotel was a bit annoying, I personally had the dubious pleasure of watching how the cat, right during the arrangement of food, calmly climbed onto the table, on which there were breakfast dishes and appetizingly ate sausage directly from the common plate with cuts. None of the waiters even thought to drive her away. Although, maybe I’m nitpicking, and the cat eating sausage on the table in front of everyone is also a publicity stunt of the hostess, so, they say, the cat doesn’t die from our sausage, which means that shit won’t happen to you either.

When you get to Turkey and get on the hotel bus, the guides first of all warn you that you cannot drink tap water in Turkey. Checkmate! With me, the hotel staff collected water in bottles for the cooler and coffee machine from the tap. Attaching photo. The hostess, when I presented this photo, began to assure me that the water in this tap was clean and fit for drinking. It is strange that she did not add that the water comes from the holy spring named after Martha the Glutton of Kromerogardenovskoy.

It’s not so far to go to the beach, but 10-15 minutes under the scorching sun is a so-so pleasure, for an amateur. The beach is municipal, densely polluted by tourists. You can find a sunbed, but it's hard. Most often, the loungers are broken, from the time of the conquest of the Crimea and Azov. On some you can find reviews of Russian tourists with "yats".
Near the shore, large stones that make entering the sea look like walking through a minefield, you won’t be blown up, but you can bring a fracture or dislocation as a bonus from the trip.

There are cleared passages, with small pebbles, but it is even more difficult to get through them than through stones. A dozen pensioners from the Broken Widow club stand up to their chests in the water, blocking the entrance to the azure font with their muscular, toned and tanned bodies, discussing the past breakfast-lunch-dinner and strenuously carbonating the water, or into the water. If you break through their barrier, you can enjoy what everyone comes here for - a warm and clear sea.

In a separate paragraph, I would like to thank the RedWings airline, whose stinginess can compete with the stinginess of Plyushkin and Gobsek. For a three and a half hour flight from Moscow to Antalya, we were offered only water from the imperishable "Auchan".
I don’t know why our rulers have such a hard time finding a common language, we communicated well with the residents of Kamenetz-Podolsky, Kyiv, Kharkov, and such wonderful people can turn a stay in the worst hotel into an unforgettable vacation!