Should have anticipated trouble, when hotel reception failed to send acknowledgement of reservation as I had requested. Alarm bells should have sounded when reception insisted on payment before even showing us our room.
To be fair, there is an air of cleanliness when first indoors and in one's room, but closer investigation proves otherwise. The window does indeed look out over the large garden (really just some mown grass), but includes a close view of the flat roof immediately outside, possibly over the dining room. This flat roof had accumulated an interesting collection of cigarett butts, a paint tin, and part of the window itself, which had obviously fallen off and been left to languish amongst its discarded companions. Checking the hotel handbook was a health hazard in itself: it was filthy and stained with smudgy brown fingerprints, the remains of chocolate I hope. By the time I found the dirty cups, the old cup rings on the painted surfaces, and someone else's biscuit crumbs on the "hospitality" tray, I knew I should complain to the staff. Should I or should I not? I was worried about receiving a serving of spit in my breakfast coffee, so confined myself to a bit of a whine to the girl at reception.
The so-called "en-suite facilities" are in reality nothing more than a cupboard and, to use the hand basin, you have to keep the door open into the bedroom. There were fingerprints all over the en-suite walls, tiles were cracked and grubby, the loo was stained, and there was someone else's rubbish in the waste bin.
The mattresses (twin room) were relatively comfortable, and the linen looked clean. However, there was no valance round the bed bases which perhaps is picky, but surely a nice addition to any bed, and the pillows were vile, manmade fibre things of different thicknesses, with just a single pillowcase over. No sign of that attempt at comfort a pillow protector brings. The same applies to the quilts and their covers. It was a stifling hot day and night. Despite the fact that some people prefer manmade fibres perhaps due to allergies, only natural fibres (cottons, linens, feathers, wool) allow skin to breathe. Sleeping on Wimblehurst beds is like trying to sleep in a plastic bag. There is an electric fan, but it is a weakly affair, and noisy to boot.
The gentleman referred to elsewhere on these reviews made his appearance at breakfast. He was surly and did not manage one smile. On account of my moan to reception the previous night, my husband and I went for cereal and toast. Don't ever order toast at the Wimblehurst. There is no choice of brown, white, or wholemeal, and you will be served a toast rack full of hard, chewy toasted white sliced which is either from a very stale loaf or left over from the previous day's breakfast and re-heated. The packet butters and jams were stale and, worse, had been left on the table in the sun. You may imagine the effect this had when they were opened.
The tariff at this hotel/B&B is relatively modest, but this should not mean low standards. It should be well within budget to replace a broken tile, wipe surfaces, empty wast bins, and make comfortable beds. Until last year, I ran my own little B&B. I'd have been mortified if I had been this careless of my guests' comfort. Mistakes and omissions are one thing, but standards at the Wimblehurst are indeed worse than "terrible." They are "disgusting." I agree with the reviewer who thought it was pointless to write and complain. He is right to say it would be better to sleep in the car.
This review is the subjective opinion of a TripAdvisor member and not of TripAdvisor LLC