Usuário convidado
15 de agosto de 2023
Crabbe Mountain Don’t If you would like to stay at this Inn (and I wouldn’t suggest it), do it now because I can’t imagine it will be around in a couple years. From what I gather, the Inn was shut down for many years and retaken up by its current owner, John; though it would seem, sort of like the uncovering of an ancient alien species lodged deep in the ice in the seminal 1982 film, “The Thing,” that this is a case where what was buried should have stayed that way. I made the mistake of not looking at reviews of this place too closely before we booked – yes the Inn has a relatively high rating, but only from less than 100 reviews, many of which you have to imagine are friends coaxed into leaving a five-star, “good food, good vibes” style pity review. The bad reviews, however, are much more telling and troublesome: the owner, John, seems to have multiple run-ins with guests, shouting matches, and overall bad vibes. In all honesty, up until the day of the check in I had only had good things to report – we were delayed one day in our travel and John (or a woman in the background of the phone call) suggested we push our stay ahead one day with no extra charge. This nicety did not prepare us for the unprofessionalism that would follow. Early on the day of our stay I received an ******* message from John, it seemed like something a friend would send and simply said, “What time are you arriving?”, to which I answered, “Sometime around 3.” And sure enough, a little after 3pm we rolled up to the Crabbe Mountain Inn, myself, my wife, and our 1-year old boy. It looked nice and inviting from the outside and the front door was wide open to receive us…well, sort of. When we walked in there were three women pacing around frantically, I said to one “hi, um…we are looking to check in?”, to which she answered, exasperated, “so are we!” Apparently John and family had picked a strange time to leave their Inn and head into town, with the only two groups booked that night left to wonder what to do. The other group had called John who gave them the code to the front door so they could go inside and wait at least; they had questions and concerns however: when does the restaurant open, when could a particular issue with their stay be solved, why is this essentially a hostel but priced as a hotel, why does their room smell like feces? They were more impatient than us and only waited around for a little over an hour before deciding to leave and go stay somewhere else. That was 1 of 2 bookings gone. We had decided to stay the course, however, as it is difficult traveling with a little baby all day and he needed some hot food. We waited, and waited, called, and called again – John was always “just on his way.” In one of our calls John told us to go behind the bar and get our room key. By the way, at no point in the day did he ever call us (or the other group) to let us know that he’d be late or send any self-check in directions, we had to put it together piece-meal by c
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