Stepping from the car after the drive down the long, neglected driveway, we noticed a number of paint cans leaning against the front of the house, half-hidden by the massive bushes. The entrance was drab and dirty with mail thrown carelessly on a table, as if the intendent recipient had long stopped collecting it. After ringing the doorbell and waiting several minutes, a gentleman appeared to let us in but swiftly skittered away to attend to other customers without saying a word to us. We found the reception area, checked in, and were taken to our room by a pleasant young woman. We had booked the Tower Room, right next door to, what appeared to be, the repository for Good Will rejects. We later found out that the objects entombed there were antiques for sale.
The Tower Room had been decorated with hodge-podge of "antiques" with almost no surface left unscathed. In the corner, by the armoir holding the flat screen TV stood not one, but two plastic trees, coated liberally with dust, as was the "silk" floral arrangement perched on the corner of the jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. There were candle holders, but alas, no candles. The bathroom was spacious and by and large clean, except for the rungs on the rocking chair in the corner which had not been dusted for a very, very long time.
The room seemed clean but with all that dust, one had to wonder just how clean it really was. The king-sized bed was covered with a polyester bed spread that we later found out was stained on the opposite side. The mattress dipped toward the middle, and it was necessary to grip the side of the bed to enjoy any of the width. There were many uncomfortable chairs in the room all with worn and stained fabric seats. It had been a very warm for January day, but the room was heated to about 78 degrees and only one small window opened into the bedroom and it was adorned with a heavy swag that was, wait for it, dusty. There was a ceiling fan and it whirled lazily overhead, helping not much.
After a sleep deprived night, a large breakfast was delivered to our door by two women. My husband liberally tipped the server and was rewarded with a begrudging thanks. The window for the inclusive breakfast is 7:30 to 9:30, ridiculous for a Sunday morning. Nevertheless, the fruit was fresh and the coffee was good. The eggs benedict were tasteless and the english muffin they sat on was hard as a rock . Since salt and pepper were not delivered with the breakfast, my husband picked up the phone to request some. He was diverted to voice mail necessitating a trip downstairs in his bathrobe.
After breakfast, we were more than ready to be on our way. We dropped the key on the desk and walked out. No one said "good-bye", no one asked how our stay had been, no one wished us bon voyage. We walked to the car, peered at the abandoned basketball court/large trash dump and the soggy, left-in-the-rain settee and checked it all off to experience.
I'm not one to write overly negative reviews but the prices these people are charging are outrageous for the run-down, shabby facility they are operating. We've stayed at bed and breakfasts, both posh and simple and have always been happy with the accomodations. We appreciate the "antique" look when it's done with taste. Gramercy Mansion wins our prize for doing almost everything wrong.
