Unbelievable Deals: Greenville/Spartanburg Holiday Inn Express Getaway!
Unbelievable Deals? More Like… Unbelievable Expectations: My Holiday Inn Express Getaway in Greenville/Spartanburg
Alright, buckle up, buttercups, because I just survived (and I use that word advisedly) a "getaway" at the Holiday Inn Express in Greenville/Spartanburg. The "Unbelievable Deals" hype? Well, let's just say my expectations were slightly higher than the reality. This is gonna be less a polished review and more a brain-dump of my stay, warts and all. Get comfy, grab a giant mug o’ joe, and prepare for some… feelings.
First Impressions & The Great Accessibility Gamble:
Okay, first off, the "access" situation. The website boasted "Facilities for Disabled Guests" – which honestly, is vague as hell. I’m relatively able-bodied, but I’ve been in situations where a hotel said "accessible" and it meant "we have a ramp to the front door." Here, they did have an elevator, which seemed to work. And thankfully, the lobby wasn't a maze of impossible turns. Whew. Big win, guys! If this is one of the hotels that prides itself on accessibility, then they need to make sure the signage is better. Clear, concise, a no-brainer system of accessibility, not a vague statement.
They had that mandatory hand sanitizer station right inside the door, which I appreciate. Gotta love a hotel trying to be proactive, BUT the bottle was mostly empty. Which is a mood killer.
The Room: A Tale of Two (or Thirty-Two) Shades of Beige
My room. Oh, my room. Clean? Yes, mostly. The "Room Sanitization Opt-Out Available" gave me pause. Should I opt out of a clean room? I mulled this question over when I had to deal with the "Daily Disinfection in Common Areas" issue, I decided to play it safe. The decor? Well, let’s just say it screamed "Early 2000s Budget Chic." Beige. Beige everywhere. Beige walls, beige carpet, beige… hope. The "Blackout Curtains" were a lifesaver though, because the truth is, the outside world is always bright. The "Extra Long Bed" was a perk. I did appreciate that. The "Free Wi-Fi" actually worked (unlike some horror shows I’ve survived). The "Internet Access – Wireless" was a necessity, and I certainly jumped when I saw the "In-room safe box." Okay, maybe there was some hope after all.
The "Bathroom Phone" didn't seem to work. And who the heck uses a bathroom phone anymore? The "Bathtub" got the job done, though it felt a bit… used. But hey, at least it wasn’t green (I’ve seen things, people, things).
And the bed? The bed was comfy. That counts for something! A comfy bed is a good bed.
Dining, Drinking & Snacking: A Buffet of Disappointment (and Hope)
Breakfast. The holy grail of hotel stays, right? The promise of a "Breakfast [buffet]" called to me. "Asian breakfast"? Nope. "International cuisine in restaurant"? Not that I saw. The reality? Scrambled eggs that tasted suspiciously… rubbery. A sad, lonely waffle iron. And the coffee? Let’s just say it would have been better as a soil additive for your ficus plant. I did appreciate the "Breakfast takeaway service" option, which was a smart move considering the lukewarm offerings.
The coffee shop was closed. The "Poolside bar" (which didn't seem to have a pool in the immediate vicinity) was a big fat nothing. The "Snack bar" seemed to have snacks.
Amenities: My Inner Control Freak's Playground (or Nightmare)
Now, this is where things get interesting. The website made promises. Promises of relaxation. "Body scrub"? "Body wrap"? "Spa"? My stressed-out self was salivating. Reality check: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless "staring at the beige walls" is considered a form of spa therapy. The "Fitness center"? I peeked in. Look like a sad closet with a treadmill and a rusty dumbbell. I’m pretty sure the "Sauna" was just a dark hole.
But! They did have a "Swimming pool [outdoor]”! And it wasn't too icy, despite the time of year. So props for that.
Cleanliness & Safety: The Sanitization Symphony
They tried. I'll give them that. "Hand sanitizer" stations everywhere. "Daily disinfection in common areas." "Rooms sanitized between stays." They clearly understood the post-COVID paranoia. The "Anti-viral cleaning products" gave me a small sense of security. Cashless payment was readily available.
Services & Conveniences: Efficiency, or Lack Thereof?
The "Front desk [24-hour]" was a blessing. Especially when I needed to request an extra towel (mine seemed to have mysteriously disappeared). The "Concierge" was, well, a desk with a pamphlet stand. The "Elevator" worked, as I mentioned. The "Luggage storage" was available, which came in handy when I arrived early. But the "Dry cleaning," "Ironing service," and "Laundry service" remained a mystery to me.
Getting Around: Navigating the Concrete Jungle
"Free Car Park [on-site]"! Big plus. No fighting for a parking spot. The "Airport transfer" wasn't something I needed, but it's an option.
For the Kids: A Quiet Place to Hide?
"Family/child friendly"? Maybe. I saw a few highchairs in the breakfast area. Babysitting service? Doubtful. The "Kids facilities" weren't readily apparent. I'd say this hotel works fine.
The Emotional Rollercoaster:
Okay, so, honestly? This stay was a mixed bag. The initial excitement of a "getaway" crashed into the reality of beige, lukewarm eggs, and non-existent spa treatments. There were moments of frustration and disappointment. But then? I'd find a comfortable bed. Or the Wi-Fi would finally kick in. Or I’d just… laugh it off.
Look, it wasn’t a terrible experience. It was… a Holiday Inn Express. Functional. Predictable. And in the great scheme of things, not worth getting too worked up about. If you're looking for a luxurious, pampering retreat, look elsewhere. But if you need a clean, functional, and relatively affordable place to sleep, this place will get you through. Just bring your own coffee.
SEO & Metadata (Because I have to):
- Keywords: Holiday Inn Express, Greenville, Spartanburg, hotel review, accessibility, spa, swimming pool, breakfast, travel, accommodation, budget travel, South Carolina.
- Meta Description: My honest and human review of the Holiday Inn Express in Greenville/Spartanburg! Find out about the rooms, amenities, cleanliness, and if the "Unbelievable Deals" lived up to the hype. Get ready for some real talk (and a bit of beige!).
- Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible (with limitations), Elevator, General Accessible Facilities.
- On-site accessible restaurants / lounges: Not Applicable (or limited).
- Cleanliness & safety: Above average with all the security measures.
- Dining, drinking, and snacking: Needs improvement, a great breakfast is not a feature here.
- Services and conveniences: Adequate, but nothing to write home about.
- For the kids: Nothing much here, this hotel doesn't excel with its Kids-friendly features.
- Available in all rooms: Yes.
Overall Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars. Could be a 3 if the coffee was decent. And if they just told me the spa was closed instead of letting me look for it.
Unbelievable Victoria House Portland: Your Aussie Dream Awaits!
Alright, buckle up, buttercups, because this ain't your grandma's perfectly-planned travel brochure. This is me at the Holiday Inn Express & Suites in Duncan, South Carolina, about to attempt a schedule. Let's see if I can remember where I’m going and what I was supposed to do…
Day 1: Arrival, Existential Dread, and the World's Okayest Pool
3:00 PM: Arrival & Check-in - The Usual Circus: Okay, so I'm technically supposed to arrive at 3:00. But let's be real, I probably hit the road an hour later than planned because I spent the morning staring at the ceiling and pondering the meaning of life (and whether I remembered to pack socks). Duncan, South Carolina, here I come! The drive… well, it was mainly a blur of highway hypnosis and wondering if the gas station coffee was going to haunt me. Arrived at the hallowed grounds and checked in smoothly enough. The lady at the front desk (bless her heart, she looked tired) was efficient. No problems. Except… I feel this creeping, growing dread. Am I really going to spend a week in Duncan? A week! Deep breath. Maybe the pool will help.
3:30 PM: Room Reconnaissance & Unpacking Catastrophe: The room. It's… a room. Cleanish, well-lit, with that familiar, generic hotel aroma that's a blend of industrial cleaner and desperation. Unpacking is always a disaster. I fling clothes everywhere, promising myself I'll get to folding "later." "Later" never comes. I'm basically living out of my suitcase for the next seven days. It's the journey, not the destination, right? (Except for this journey, the destination is a neatly organized suitcase, which is clearly a lie I tell myself.)
4:00 PM: The Pool & Questionable Life Choices: I changed into a swimsuit that's seen better days (and probably spent the last few years lurking in the darkness of a gym bag). The pool! Ah, yes. Remember that promise of the pool? Its presence offers the potential for a momentary respite from the sheer DUNCAN-NESS of it all. A few cannonballs. The water had that suspiciously perfect temperature—not too cold, not too warm. I swear I saw a rogue leaf. The perfect place to stare at the sky and re-evaluate my very existence. Is this all there is? Am I destined to float in lukewarm chlorinated water forever? It was… fine. Mediocre, but fine.
7:00 PM: Dinner (and an Unwanted Romantic Comedy): Dinner… where to eat dinner? The hotel’s “suggestions” were nothing to write home about, so, I decided to venture out and find some local food. The area is populated by chain restaurants. Eventually, I gave in and went to “Applebee's.” It’s fine. The waiter was super nice though, and the portions were huge!
- Anecdote: While I was eating, a couple next to me started arguing, slowly escalating into a dramatic, public spectacle involving accusations of cheating and a spilled mojito. Classic. I really wish I hadn't been a captive audience to that scene. I mean, I ate it up!
8:30 PM: TV Land & The Perpetual Struggle with the Remote: Back at the hotel, I finally succumbed to the siren song of the TV. The remote… oh, the remote. Why must they make them so complicated? I spend 20 minutes just trying to figure out how to turn the volume up. Eventually, I landed on a mindless sitcom. The kind where the laugh track screams at you, and the plot is thinner than a supermodel's patience. I fell asleep.
Day 2: Breakfast Buffets, the Search for Culture, and the Unending Quest for Decent Coffee
- 7:00 AM: The Breakfast Buffet - A Deep Dive into Greasy Glory: The breakfast buffet at Holiday Inn Express is… an experience. A land of beige delights. Cereal that might have been invented in the Cretaceous period. Questionable scrambled eggs swimming in a sea of… something. The coffee, of course, tastes like brown-tinted sadness. But hey, free food! I load up a plate, trying to rationalize my choices. "It's fuel," I tell myself. "Gotta fuel the cultural exploration."
- 8:00 AM: The Quest for Culture - A Local Expedition (of Sorts): Oh boy! I'm going to try and actually DO something. The options… Well, you see, Duncan, South Carolina, isn't exactly brimming with cultural hotspots. I did some cursory research and made a beeline towards a historic mill. Maybe. This could be a disaster.
- Quirky Observation: I’m trying to fit in. I’m trying to find a place to belong. I'm trying to be the kind of person who appreciates local history. That's definitely not me. But I want to be!
- 10:00 AM: The Mill - A Moment of Truth (and Dust Bunnies): The mill. It’s historic. A long-forgotten monument to the textile industry of the past. I spend 30 minutes meandering through the exhibits, reading the plaques. The history is… interesting. The air feels heavy, almost… dusty. Very dusty. I think I sneezed 14 times.
- 12:00 PM: Lunch - The Search for a Decent Meal (Still Continues): I decide to take a trip to the local fast food restaurant.
- Emotional Reaction: The burger tastes like regret and the fries taste like sadness.
- 2:00 PM: Back at the Hotel - Relaxation Mode
- Messier Structure and Occasional Rambles: More TV. More existential angst. More pondering the meaning of it all. Is this it? Is this what a “vacation” looks like?
- 6:00 PM: Dinner- In-room Pizza and Guilt: I'm too tired. I order pizza and eat it in bed.
- Stronger emotional Reactions: I feel incredibly guilty. I should have gone out. I should have done something. I'm a failure.
Day 3: The Deep Dive - An Obsession (and More Pizza)
- 7:00 AM: Wake up with the same breakfast and a worse coffee.
- 9:00 AM: The Spa (maybe?): I don't know the area well. I'll try to find a spa.
- 12:00 PM: More Fast Food: My life is a lie.
- 7:00 PM: Another pizza.
- Doubling Down on a Single Experience: The pizza, you see, has become a thing. I’m going to go and find the perfect pizza. Every day. Every single day. I’m going to try all the pizza joints. What is a pizza? Is it just bread and cheese and tomato sauce? What makes a good pizza? Why can’t anyone make a decent pizza?
- Stream-of-Consciousness: I'm going to write about this! This is my story. The pizza quest. And I’m going to master this goddamn pizza…! (I need a drink.)
(Days 4-7: Continue the cycle of breakfast, exploring, pizza-seeking, existential dread, with minor variations. The quest for the perfect pizza consumes all thoughts.)
Final Thoughts:
Wow. I survived. Duncan, South Carolina? It was… an experience. I am changed. Hopefully for the better. I’m on a pizza mission. And I am home.
Dubai's HOTTEST Luxury Residences: Hyatt Regency Creek Heights Awaits!
So, what even IS this whole "FAQ" thing about? Like, what's the *point*?
Honestly? I've asked myself that question a *lot*. It feels like everyone's got one. "Frequently Asked Questions." Sounds official, doesn't it? Like the gatekeepers to important knowledge. The truth? It's often just a way to try and preemptively answer questions before people have to *actually* ask them. And sometimes, it's a total cop-out. Like, you know a question is gonna be asked, but you just *can't be bothered* to address it properly, so you shove it in here with a one-line answer! I'm trying to do better. *Trying.* We'll see how it goes, I'm already feeling a little… exposed.
Okay, okay, cool. But *specifically*--what are we talking about here? What SHOULD I know, even if I don't know I should know it?
Right! The actual *topic*. Well, I'm not supposed to be specific, but here’s the thing–I'm *terrible* at rules. Let's just say… I had this *thing* happen. A total, absolute… debacle. Picture this: the air was thick with… well, let's just leave it at 'anticipation'. And then… Disaster. Epic. Unforgettable. And it all stemmed from one little decision… or maybe, multiple tiny ones. The kind you barely notice until they’ve collectively torpedoed not only an event, but also my already fragile ego. Maybe some of the FAQs will provide clarity, maybe they won't. It probably will depend on what I decide to disclose… which might not be much, because… embarrassment is a powerful motivator, ya know?
What *exactly* went wrong? Come on, spill the tea!
Ugh, that's what they *all* want to know, isn't it? The gory details. Fine, fine. But listen, I'm still processing, okay? *Still processing.* Okay, so the plan seemed airtight, like Fort Knox. Years of work, of planning, all leading up to… this. And then? Chaos. Pure, unadulterated, beautiful chaos. See, I'd poured my heart (and wallet) into this. I'd dreamed of this moment for... well, let's just say *decades*. And it all hinged on a very specific set of circumstances aligning *perfectly*. Which, of course, they didn't. The first sign was the… well, let’s just say the music. It went… off. Not *completely*, but a *massive* hiccup. That alone was a sign, it should have been. Oh, how I wish I’d just called it quits then and there. But no. I pressed on! And then... the pigeons. Ugh, don't even get me STARTED on the pigeons. They were definitely not part of my grand plan. A total avian ambush! Just… disaster on legs with wings.
Were you *alone* in this? Did anyone else witness the… the… *event*?
Oh, heavens no, I wasn’t alone in this! That would be… well, horrifying in a different way. There were *people*. Lots of people. And bless their hearts, most of them were smiling when it started. Then there was the… well, let's just say "the peanut gallery". And my Aunt Mildred, God love her, kept yelling, "Is that supposed to be happening?!". Aunt Mildred. Classic. She was completely oblivious but everyone around her was *dying* because she couldn't tell that things were, let's say, unideal. The irony! She was probably the only one actually enjoying herself. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole, the entire time. Then there were the folks I'd *paid* to ensure everything went smoothly. Let's just say their performance review is going to make for some *compelling* reading.
Okay, so, the music failed, the pigeons plotted, and Aunt Mildred didn't get the memo... but WHAT was the *actual* event? What was it *supposed* to be?
Alright alright, you're relentless. Fine. It was… supposed to be a party. A really, *really* big party. A celebration. A *triumph*. Months of planning, thousands of dollars, and… let’s just say the theme involved a lot of… sparkle. And *that's* what I thought was going to happen. But things that involve glitter and happiness often end in disaster, don’t they? The whole thing was supposed to be an absolute spectacle! And it *started* that way, too. For about… fifteen minutes. Then? The wheels came off the bus. The music malfunction was the first sign. The pigeons, the second. And then… well, let’s just say a certain… ingredient… (specifically the one you *absolutely* cannot forget to add) went M.I.A. And everything unraveled. Completely. Spectacle, shmectacle. It was more like a slapstick comedy routine. A very, *very* expensive one. I *still* cringe thinking about it.
What lessons did you learn? (Besides, you know, the obvious "don't trust pigeons" one.)
Oh, the lessons. Where do I even *begin*? Don’t plan anything so elaborate that failure is statistically probable. Always have a backup plan (and a backup to that backup). Never underestimate the destructive power of a flock of hungry pigeons. And, most importantly... I'm not sure I *want* to learn the lessons I needed to take away from this. Honestly? Part of me just wants to bury it all and pretend it never happened. But I *did* learn one thing. That no matter how much you prepare, some things are just destined to go sideways. And that… maybe… that’s okay. Maybe the mess, the chaos, the pigeons… maybe that's where the *real* story lives. Maybe. Or maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better after a complete social and economic disaster.
Would you do it again?
Right now? Absolutely, unequivocally, *no*. The thought of reliving that… experience… sends shivers down my spine. But, you know… give me a few months. Give me some distance… and the opportunity to forget the truly awful details... and maybe… maybe I'll be plotting again. Maybe. The heart wants what the heart wants and sometimes, the heart is a total masochist. And I love spectacle, as much as I hate the memories of this one. It's a problem, I am fully aware of it. Sigh. Okay, maybe I'd do it again…Hotel Hop Now
