- Joined
- Jan 26, 2011
- Posts
- 30,698
- Qantas
- Platinum
- Virgin
- Red
One thing we’ve noticed is that this hotel will probably end up with very mixed reviews. Some of the staff are brilliant. Some are very ordinary. And some are just… confusing.
One lady in particular seems to be in a category of her own. She’s often serving drinks in the bar. I asked her for the bill one night. She didn’t speak much English, which is fair enough because I’m the one in Portugal, but this is an international hotel. I even made the universal writing gesture with my hand. Off she went and proudly returned with a salt and pepper shaker. We hadn’t even ordered food.
The next morning MrP asked for milk with his tea. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a jar of honey.
Things also seem to vanish from our room after it’s serviced. One day it was the two little cushions we use for back support. Yesterday the coffee cups disappeared. The day before that it was the drinking glasses. We’ve ended up bringing our own little cartons of milk up from breakfast because, despite writing down the request, the milk portions have never been replenished since the day we arrived.
Then there was my attempt to get change for the laundromat. I asked at reception if they could change a €20 note. There was a lot of humming and hmmm-ing while she thought about it. Eventually she handed me one €10 note and ten €1 coins. I just looked at them, looked back at her, shrugged, said thank you and walked away. It wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind, but technically she’d given me €20 in change.
Then there's the gas fire at nighttime. It's summer right? Every night it's on. 35c let's light the gas fire.
Then a large group of Aussies arrived, dragged a heap of outdoor chairs together and settled in around it. Within minutes they were all looking far too hot.
The lady in charge of lighting the fire absolutely refused to turn it off. Before long there seemed to be half the staff involved, with about twenty minutes of polite but determined wrangling. Eventually they split the Aussie group into smaller groups, which seemed to satisfy everyone, and the fire was finally turned off.
Problem solved… or so we thought.
As soon as the group left, the fire lady wandered back over and lit it again.
We also enjoyed watching the hot foot shuffle at the beach. Ok it's around. 33c in Cascais but strangely the sand heats up like a blast furnace. People start out fine, for about two metres then it hits. We count how many steps it takes before people start running full bore down the sand to the water. Where it's arctic cold. Then they realise they have to walk back to their towels with no cold water at the other end. We got fooled once. Never again.
One lady in particular seems to be in a category of her own. She’s often serving drinks in the bar. I asked her for the bill one night. She didn’t speak much English, which is fair enough because I’m the one in Portugal, but this is an international hotel. I even made the universal writing gesture with my hand. Off she went and proudly returned with a salt and pepper shaker. We hadn’t even ordered food.
The next morning MrP asked for milk with his tea. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a jar of honey.
Things also seem to vanish from our room after it’s serviced. One day it was the two little cushions we use for back support. Yesterday the coffee cups disappeared. The day before that it was the drinking glasses. We’ve ended up bringing our own little cartons of milk up from breakfast because, despite writing down the request, the milk portions have never been replenished since the day we arrived.
Then there was my attempt to get change for the laundromat. I asked at reception if they could change a €20 note. There was a lot of humming and hmmm-ing while she thought about it. Eventually she handed me one €10 note and ten €1 coins. I just looked at them, looked back at her, shrugged, said thank you and walked away. It wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind, but technically she’d given me €20 in change.
Then there's the gas fire at nighttime. It's summer right? Every night it's on. 35c let's light the gas fire.
Then a large group of Aussies arrived, dragged a heap of outdoor chairs together and settled in around it. Within minutes they were all looking far too hot.
The lady in charge of lighting the fire absolutely refused to turn it off. Before long there seemed to be half the staff involved, with about twenty minutes of polite but determined wrangling. Eventually they split the Aussie group into smaller groups, which seemed to satisfy everyone, and the fire was finally turned off.
Problem solved… or so we thought.
As soon as the group left, the fire lady wandered back over and lit it again.
We also enjoyed watching the hot foot shuffle at the beach. Ok it's around. 33c in Cascais but strangely the sand heats up like a blast furnace. People start out fine, for about two metres then it hits. We count how many steps it takes before people start running full bore down the sand to the water. Where it's arctic cold. Then they realise they have to walk back to their towels with no cold water at the other end. We got fooled once. Never again.
