Escape to Paradise: Stunning Zierow Holiday Home with Terrace!
The Grand Whatchamacallit: A Review That's Seen Some Stuff (And Smelled Some Things)
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because we're diving headfirst into the… well, this place. Let's call it "The Grand Whatchamacallit." (Because frankly, I can't remember its real name. And if it's anything like the lobby music, it deserves to be forgotten anyway.) I spent, like, a week there. Don’t ask why. Maybe I was lost? Maybe I needed a serious dose of… something. Either way, I'm here to spill the (lukewarm) tea. Buckle up.
Accessibility: A Mixed Bag of Good Intentions and… Well, Stairs.
So, the accessibility. They say they care. They claim they've got it all figured out. But you know what? My first clue was the massive flight of stairs greeting me at the entrance. Now, I’m no wheelchair user, but it made me wonder. They do have an elevator tucked away somewhere (apparently, it's staffed, because it took a solid 5 minutes to get to the lobby). Wheelchair accessible? Technically, maybe. Practically? Think of it as more of a charming obstacle course. Now, the facilities for disabled guests, I think they’re in the rooms (didn't get any), but I didn't go looking, because frankly, I was too busy trying to find the breakfast buffet… (more on that culinary quest later).
On-site accessible restaurants / lounges: I vaguely recall one in the lobby, looked like a good spot to meet your colleagues, or to watch them, but the staff seemed to be non-existant, so I was not able to know if it was accessible.
Internet: Free Wi-Fi and the Eternal Struggle.
Oh, the Wi-Fi. Bless its little digital heart. Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! YES! Internet access – wireless! YES! Internet access – LAN! …. Never mind. Don’t bother. Unless you are trying to channel your inner dial-up modem. The Internet itself was… spotty. More like, “spot, and then maybe a tiny connection for three seconds, then nothing.” I swear, I could have gotten a better signal from shouting into the void than trying to upload a photo. I spent more time resetting my router than actually doing anything online. And the Internet [LAN], well, let's just say I'm pretty sure my dial-up modem is still faster. Internet services were non-existant.
Things to Do (Beyond the Existential Dread):
Okay, let's talk escapism. Things to do. Let's see… They touted a bunch of stuff. Some of which actually existed.
- Pool with view: Yes, the pool did have a view. Of rooftops. And pigeons. But hey, a view's a view, right? The pool itself was… cleanish. And the swimming pool [outdoor]? Yup, it was there.
- Ways to relax: Ah, yes. The holy grail. Spa/sauna: The spa was a thing, a very quiet and dark thing. I peeked in, and it all looked very… Zen. Or maybe it was just dimly lit. Sauna? Present. Steamroom? Ditto. I hear people like these things. I ended up just taking a good long nap in my room. That's my relaxation technique.
- Fitness center: I attempted the Fitness center. I say "attempted" because it looked like someone had forgotten about it since, oh, the late 80s. Rusty weights and equipment that might double as torture devices. But hey, at least there was a treadmill. (I skipped it, and went with the nap)
- Gym/fitness, Massage, Body scrub and Body wrap: Ah yes. I didn't try any of them… too many other things to do.
- Foot bath: nope.
Cleanliness and Safety: Trying to Breathe Easy.
Look, given the times, I was extra observant of the cleanliness situation. Anti-viral cleaning products? They said they were using them. Daily disinfection in common areas? Supposedly. Rooms sanitized between stays? I hope so. Otherwise, I probably slept with a plague doctor. Professional-grade sanitizing services: Maybe. Sterilizing equipment: They had what looked like a giant microwave. Room sanitization opt-out available: Well, maybe they asked me? I can't remember. Hand sanitizer: Definitely. Everywhere. Kinda made my hands dry and cracked. Staff trained in safety protocol. They wore masks. First aid kit: I didn't look for it. Hygiene certification. Nope. Safe dining setup: Okay, the dining setup. This was the big one.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: The Culinary Wasteland.
Oh, the food. THE FOOD! Listen, I was prepared for a standard hotel buffet. But the food was a culinary black hole of mediocrity. Breakfast [buffet]: See above. A grey, gloopy mess. I swear, I saw some things in the "sausage" that I couldn’t identify. Buffet in restaurant: Yes. Asian breakfast: Nope. Western breakfast: Not much better. Breakfast in room: Possible, didn't try it. Breakfast takeaway service: Also possible, and I'm guessing, a good way to avoid the questionable buffet. A la carte in restaurant: Available. Expensive. Coffee/tea in restaurant, Coffee shop: Mediocre. Desserts in restaurant: Stay away. Just, stay away. Happy hour: I don’t do happy hour. Poolside bar: Closed. Restaurants, Snack bar: One restaurant, one snack bar. Room service [24-hour]: Yes, and apparently the best option. Salad in restaurant, Soup in restaurant: I'm afraid to know. Vegetarian restaurant: Couldn't find one. Western cuisine in restaurant, Asian cuisine in restaurant, International cuisine in restaurant: All the same. Bland. Awful. Bottle of water: Thankfully, yes. Alternative meal arrangement: I doubt it.
Services and Conveniences: The Good, the Bad, and the Invisible.
- Air conditioning in public area: Yes, but on full blast. I froze in the lobby.
- Audio-visual equipment for special events: Probably.
- Business facilities: They had them. I stayed away.
- Cash withdrawal: Yes, but the ATM ate my card.
- Concierge: Tried to be helpful. Poor guy seemed overworked.
- Contactless check-in/out: Yep, which was nice.
- Convenience store: I found a vending machine. Does that count?
- Currency exchange: Yes.
- Daily housekeeping: Yes, and they were excellent.
- Doorman: Yes.
- Dry cleaning, Ironing service, Laundry service: Present, but didn't use them.
- Elevator: Yes.
- Essential condiments: You know, like salt and pepper? I don't know.
- Facilities for disabled guests: More on that.
- Food delivery: Yes, but I didn't dare.
- Gift/souvenir shop: Yes, overpriced stuff.
- Indoor venue for special events, Outdoor venue for special events: I'd rather not imagine.
- Invoice provided: Apparently.
- Luggage storage: Yes.
- Meeting/banquet facilities, Meetings, Meeting stationery, On-site event hosting, Seminars: Not my thing.
- Projector/LED display: Probably.
- Safety deposit boxes: Good.
- Shrine: Nope.
- Smoking area: Yes, outside the entrance.
- Terrace: Nope.
- Wi-Fi for special events, Xerox/fax in business center: Yes.
For the Kids: God Help Them.
- Babysitting service: Yes, but I'd be wary.
- Family/child friendly, Kids facilities, Kids meal: I don't have kids, but I wouldn't bring them here.
Available in all rooms:
- Additional toilet: Probably not.
- Air conditioning: Yes, freezing cold.
- Alarm clock: Yes, that's how I woke up to the horror.
- Bathrobes: Nope.
- Bathroom phone: Maybe.
- Bathtub: Yup.
- Blackout curtains: Yes, a lifesaver.
- Carpeting: Yes, stained.
- Closet: Yes.
- Coffee/tea maker, Complimentary tea: Yes, but you’ll still want coffee.
- Daily housekeeping: Fantastic.
- Desk: Yes.
Okay, buckle up, buttercups! This ain't your grandma's travel itinerary. This is a raw, unfiltered, probably slightly caffeinated account of my chaotic adventure in Zierow, Germany. God help me.
The Zierow Zizzles & Flummoxes: A Totally Unreliable Itinerary
Day 1: Arrival, Mild Panic & Terrace Tequila (Maybe)
- Morning (or "Whenever I Finally Drag My Luggage Out of the Car"): Arrive in Zierow. Find the holiday home, which, according to the pictures, is gorgeous. (Fingers crossed.) Prepare for the inevitable “OMG, did I pack enough socks?!” moment. The drive was endless. I swear, Germany is…big. Bigger than I thought.
- Mid-morning (or “Successfully Unlocked the Door”): Unpack. Immediately judge the bed's firmness. (Spoiler alert: it’s probably too firm, because my luck.) Scout the terrace situation. Is it really as idyllic as the photos?
- Lunch: Assemble a haphazard lunch from whatever survived the journey. Probably cheese and those sad-looking tomatoes from the supermarket. Mutter darkly about how airplane food traumatized me.
- Afternoon: Terrace inspection officially begins. Sun's out, which is a miracle. Locate the promised deck chairs. Strategically place my book. Ah, bliss! (Wait for it…)
- Late Afternoon/Early Evening (the descent into chaos): The sun is glowing, so decide to take a stroll around the holiday home. Maybe visit the beach. This is when the first (and likely not last) "I'm actually lost!" moment hits. I get distracted by a particularly fluffy cloud and end up wandering in a field. Why is there a random cow staring at me? Feel a sudden urge to channel my inner Hemingway. I decide the beach scene is… well, I get distracted again.
- Evening: Dinner! (Probably a poorly executed attempt at grilling. Expect char marks on everything.) Contemplate a terrace tequila shot to celebrate… being alive. The wind picks up. Is it going to rain? I hate rain.
- Bedtime: Read, relax. Maybe. If the wind doesn’t keep me up. Swear to sleep for eight hours. Guaranteed, I will wake up at 3 am to pee.
Day 2: Beach Bumming…and existential angst
- Morning: Wake up at 7 am on purpose. Go the beach before the hordes arrive. It's beautiful, the water is cold, and the sun is glorious, feel like it's the best day of my life.
- Mid-morning: Try to build the perfect sandcastle. Fail miserably. Watch children build superior sandcastles with effortless ease. Face a moment of deep existential dread regarding my own inadequacy. Sigh. Buy an ice cream - which is just what I needed
- Lunch: Something vaguely resembling sustenance. Probably another cheese-and-tomato combo. Reflect on the meaning of life while watching seagulls steal someone's chips.
- Afternoon: Re-immerse myself in Hemingway on the terrace. (The wind is my mortal enemy). Consider writing my own novel based on…well, everything I've observed so far. Realize I hate the wind, and go to the beach again.
- Late Afternoon/Early Evening: Beach sunset. It's cliché, I know, but damn it's beautiful. Decide I'm in love with the Baltic Sea (or at least the idea of the Baltic Sea). The wind returns with a vengeance, and I'm suddenly questioning all my life choices.
- Evening: Cook dinner! (Or attempt to). Accidentally burn the garlic. Swear. Drink wine to compensate. The wind is still there. Plan my escape, but remember I'll just be going back home to the wind.
- Bedtime: Fail to sleep. Watch TV. Read. Curse the wind.
Day 3: Cycling Chaos and Culinary Calamity
- Morning: Rent bikes. (I, of course, chose the one with the wonky brakes. Naturally). Attempt a scenic cycle ride. Get lost. Seriously. And, of course, I got a flat tire (or… something, I'm not good and I should blame the bike). It's not easy to remember the way back when you're riding the same path over and over again.
- Late Morning: Arrive back, exhausted and covered in… something. (Dirt? Mud? Undetermined mystery substance?). Swear off cycling forever.
- Lunch: Vow to avoid anything involving a stove. Order takeout. Spend an exorbitant amount of money, regretting the choice instantly.
- Afternoon: The promised exploration of a local farm or market. (This is where the itinerary is really going off the rails. I’m probably eating a cheese and tomato.) Buy something incredibly obscure. (Probably a pickle.) Realize I can't read German.
- Late Afternoon/Early Evening: The wind is there again. Do another sunset (again). Attempt to capture the perfect photo. Fail. Repeat.
- Evening: Dinner! (This time, I'm feeling ambitious. We're talking pasta…) Boil the pasta for approximately 3 minutes, and end up with the texture of slightly sticky, overcooked glue. Pour the red sauce over top. Decide I'm suddenly a culinary genius.
- Bedtime: Watch more TV. Fall sleep on the couch, only to fall into the bed at 4 am.
Day X (Because honestly, who knows at this point?): The Big Finale
- Anything Goes!: This is where the wheels truly fall off. It could involve:
- A desperate attempt to learn German.
- An impromptu shopping spree (because those German shops are tempting.)
- A breakdown in a supermarket aisle, possibly over the sheer number of mustard options.
- A serious philosophical discussion with a seagull.
- A spontaneous decision to leave for an hour and never return.
Whatever chaos unfolds, expect laughter, tears, and probably a lot of cheese.
Important Notes:
- Weather: Highly unpredictable. Pack for all seasons (even if it is summer).
- Language: My German is non-existent. Prepare for enthusiastic gesturing and awkward silences.
- Expectations: Lower them. Then, lower them again. This is about embracing the beautiful mess of travel.
- Most importantly: This is my Zierow. Your experience will be different. (Probably more organized…and with working brakes).
- The wind: It's always there. God help me.
So, uh, What *IS* This Thing We're "Frequently" Talking About Anyway?
Why are you doing this? Besides, you know, masochism?
Is this gonna be like, a helpful FAQ? With, you know, *answers*?
Okay, fine. Let's get to a *real* question: What are some of the Biggest Challenges? Spill the tea.
What about all the positive? The good stuff! What keeps you going?
Tell me a story... a memorable experience around this. Because you *have* to have had one, right?
How do you handle *criticism*? Because, let's face it, there will be some, right?
What's the biggest thing you've learned from all this?
