Pullman-boenden i Craiglie

Let me start by saying — this place looks like a five-star resort, and honestly, it’s almost pulling it off. From the front desk to the landscaping, the vibes are immaculate. Reception staff? Absolute pros. Warm, efficient, and welcoming. The hotel itself? Gorgeous. The grounds? Pristine. It cannot go unsaid that the place is surely lovely! But then… housekeeping entered the chat. I don’t know if they were short-staffed or just spiritually opposed to consistency, but cleaning was less “meticulous upkeep” and more “vague suggestion.” Every day was a fresh new episode of What Will They Forget This Time? Towels? Maybe. Trash bins? Who knows. Soap? That’s a Tuesday-only luxury, apparently. One day the bed was made, but the sinks and mirrors clearly hadn’t been touched. Another day, they left their cleaning supplies in the bathroom—so at least some effort was made, I guess? The shower floor remained perpetually sandy, a charming little ecosystem of ants set up camp in our kitchenette, and the grand finale: we returned from a day exploring the stunning Daintree to find our room door left wide open. Thanks, housekeeping. Truly unforgettable. By day five I wasn’t even mad, I was invested. Was this performance art? Were we part of a social experiment? Is this how minimalism starts? So yeah, stunning hotel, flawless front desk, but housekeeping? Shithouse! Blinds are filthy in the rooms and no sheer curtains for day time privacy. Would I return? Maybe. But I’m bringing my own towels. And a mop.