I rarely leave reviews, but this experience demands one. What was marketed as a premium break turned into an infuriating and demoralising stay, defined not by facilities, but by a shocking lack of hospitality, empathy, and basic customer service — particularly from the front desk, led by the Reception Manager, Tracy.
We were placed in a wheelchair-accessible unit without prior warning — something that should absolutely be disclosed at booking. The wet room felt clinical and unwelcoming, the blinds were covered in dead bugs, and worst of all, the fridge emitted a constant loud hum that made sleep impossible. When I raised these issues with Tracy, I was told the unit met the required standards and that there would be a £40 charge to move to another. Her justification? “We are in the right.” No interest in whether the unit was fit for purpose or the impact on our stay — just robotic policy enforcement.
Her tone throughout was dismissive, condescending, and defensive. At every stage, she minimised the problem:
• “You’re the only person to ever complain about this.”
• “You’ve been very lucky then” (in response to me saying I’ve never been assigned an accessible unit before — which ironically acknowledges how poor these units are).
• “We’ve had platinum members in here who haven’t said anything.”
Instead of addressing a valid complaint, she appeared more focused on discrediting it.
At one point, she claimed there were no other units available — only for me to interrupt (admittedly out of frustration) and say I’d just checked the website and seen several available. Her response? She raised her hand and said, “Let me finish.” While I accept I should have waited, this moment summed up the power dynamic perfectly: a manager more interested in asserting control than in listening. Her entire approach was about being right, not doing what was right.
Eventually, she said she might be able to move us — but only based on the fridge issue, nothing else — and added, bizarrely, “but the outdoor area isn’t as nice.” Why say that? It came across like a final dig, as if she couldn’t help herself.
And it wasn’t just her. Every other receptionist we encountered was equally cold and robotic. Smiling, greeting guests, making people feel welcome — it’s all absent here. One has to ask: why are any of them in hospitality if they don’t understand the concept of being hospitable?
My partner also experienced the same indifference. When she went to collect something we’d left in the original room, she was met with: “Here – and by the way it’s checkout.” Not a single pleasantry. No “how was your stay?” or “was the second room better?” — just the same frosty, transactional tone that seems to define the place.
She also asked for a wine glass after the bar had closed (10pm on a Saturday night, absurd) and was told bluntly by Kate: “No, you can’t. The bar is closed.” Not a hint of friendliness or effort to help.
The golf course? Don’t bother. The “greens” are overgrown and unplayable — they looked like they’d been maintained by a blindfolded toddler with a Flymo.
The only pleasant member of staff we encountered was the lady in the leisure centre, who was polite, helpful, and stood out simply by being decent.
Eventually, we were moved to another unit — and the difference was night and day. Which makes you wonder: do they keep the inferior rooms for people who book through Groupon or discounted third-party sites? If that’s the case, it’s deceptive and disrespectful.
To be fair, the grounds are beautiful and the bar area is stylish — but the prices are eye-watering, and the bar remained empty for most of our stay. Even the bar staff, despite being independent from the hotel, weren’t particularly warm.
Let me be clear: I was never rude. I didn’t shout. I didn’t exaggerate. I was polite, firm, and calm — but everything I raised was met with resistance, dismissiveness, or outright contradiction.
This resort felt less like a holiday and more like a luxury prison — where everything is overly managed, the staff act like wardens, and guests are treated like inmates trying to bend the rules
