What to Do If Your Hotel Is Rubbish.

A Guide to British Complaining Abroad

You’ve landed. You’re buzzing. You’re picturing infinity pools, pillow menus, and staff who call you “sir” even when you’re in Primark Flip flops and an England bucket hat. But then you open the door to your hotel room... and the only infinity is the stain on the carpet that’s been there since 2003 and the lobby looks like a Call of Duty map.

Don’t panic. Don’t cry. And absolutely do not post a passive aggressive Instagram Story with a blurry caption saying “I guess this is what 5 stars looks like 😤”

We’re going to sort this the British way. But with flavour.

Open balcony door with glass panels, sunlight casting shadows inside, rusted metal panel, and patterned curtain on the right.

Step 1. Take Photos Like It’s a Crime Scene

Before you do anything, document the disaster. Whip out your phone and start snapping like you’re on an episode of A Place in the Slums. Show the cracked tiles. The shower with the pressure of an old man ejaculating. The mystery stain on the headboard that you’re choosing not to emotionally unpack.

If the curtains are held up with a coat hanger and the mini fridge hums like it’s on the launchpad at Cape Canaveral, you’re in business. Evidence is key. Photos. Videos. Narrated walkthroughs like you're David Attenborough in a skip.

Step 2. March to Reception Like You Pay Council Tax There

Now you’ve got the goods, head to reception. Head high. Shoulders back. You’re not here to play. Don’t shout. Don’t cry. You’re British. That means you complain with passive aggression, not public volume.

Say something like
"Hiya. Sorry to trouble you. I think there’s been a mistake. My room appears to have been decorated by someone legally blind with no access to cleaning products. Can I speak to someone who can fix this before I go full TripAdvisor keyboard warrior"

Say it with a smile. But make it terrifying.e.

A hotel reception area with neon signs on the wall that say 'spa' on the left and 'reception' on the center, with a blue decorative element that says 'friendly' on the window. The area has wooden chairs and a table with signs, and a black wall with a welcome sign to the right.

Step 3: Ask For What You Actually Want

Don’t just complain for a laugh. Be clear.

Do you want a different room? A refund for the night? Free breakfast for the inconvenience? Channel your inner lawyer and go get it. If you’re dealing with someone unhelpful, go up a level. Manager, supervisor, Donald Trump… whatever it takes.

If all else fails:

“I’ll need a written statement confirming that the room I paid for is unavailable so I can escalate with my travel provider.”

They hate that. It’s like saying “My dad’s a lawyer” at school.

Step 4: Get on the Phone to the Big Guns

If you booked through a travel agent, call them. If it was a booking site, open a support ticket straight away. Use your photos. Use your calm but disappointed tone. You know the one, the one you use when someone knocks your pint and doesn’t say sorry.

Pro tip: Mention “breach of advertised standards” and “false marketing” and watch how fast things start moving.

Step 5. Leave a Review So Legendary It Makes Headlines

Once the dust settles and you’ve either been upgraded or emotionally damaged forever, leave a review. Not just a bad one. A poetic, scathing masterpiece.

Try something like
"The only stars in this five-star hotel were the ones I saw after banging my head on the bunk bed. Room smelt like boiled socks. Would only return if it was the last habitable building on earth"

That’s public service. That’s legacy. Do it for the next traveller.

Bonus Tips for Surviving a Terrible Hotel

  • Bring a travel pillow in case the one provided is flatter than than an unbuilt IKEA table

  • Pack a large sarong (David Beckham will tell you what one of those is) that can double as a towel, blanket or psychological comfort item

  • Keep your sliders on at all times. That carpet is alive

  • If you hear mysterious dripping, it’s not your imagination. It’s your soul trying to escape

Final Words From Mr Jones

We don’t book holidays to live through trauma. We want cocktails, clean sheets and a towel that isn’t the size of a napkin. So if your hotel is rubbish, don’t suffer in silence like a wet Weetabix.

Complain like a pro. Stay polite. Stay savage. And remember, it’s not truly a holiday unless you come home with a tan, a funny story and a deep distrust of hotel marketing photos.