- Reviews: 1
Stugcentral AB: Accommodation @ Stugcentral
Sweet Jesus Christ juggling fish on a flaming unicycle, Stugcentral.
The polar opposite of a functional hostel, operated by greedy, opportunistic and seemingly mildly retarded locals.
From the second we set foot on the grounds of the place I could hear the Dueling Banjos theme from Deliverance playing on the background 24/7. I think this was only in my head, but the tune may very well have been blasting out of the loudspeakers on the front yard the whole time. (Note to self: check this later.)
They took a 50€ deposit, which I suppose is fairly normal in such establishments. What was not normal was the fact that the sum was determined by the reception guy by pulling a random figure out of his ass. Ours was fifty, the next guy´s thirty, the guy after that - seventy.
The cabin was a complete mess connected to a bunch of other cabins, also complete messes.
The House Rules were laughably meticulous and impossible to clarify, because no one on staff spoke english or, for that matter, intelligible swedish.
"You must clean your whole room... with a herring!
Which we will gladly rent to you at 20€ per hour."
The neighbours were, for want of better word, interesting.
The soundproofing turned out to be nonexistent.
The place smelled like something had died under the floorboards.
The bathroom was flooded every time someone took a shower.
"OK, that dead... thing you complained about is taken care of.
I´ll be back about the shower."
On top of all this we were treated like second class citizens the whole time. There is, of course, some justification to this. We WERE football tourists, after all. But there is no excuse to what happened during our last night there:
"Remember us? We´re your new neighbours. We´re also roaring drunk, breaking stuff on your front porch and dancing to horrible eurotrash music on your actual ***ing roof. Oh, and there´s thirty of us. Sleep tight!"
...which lasted for the whole. Goddamn. Night.
A couple of evil eyes and complaints did absolutely nothing to shut the flock of douchebags up. What these small gestures did, though, was inspire them into a spirited attempt to barricade us into our cabin during the small hours. They were no engineers, however, and the barricade was easily broken. Which was just as well, since OUR ***ING TRAIN LEFT EARLY THAT MORNING. Should we have missed that, there would have been blood. As it were, we got out in time and had to settle for a smaller amount of holy vengeance.
The owners? They were nowhere to be seen during the whole incident. Funny, really. After all, they were quick to chastise the Finnish guy next door who on the previous night had tried to sleep on his porch because, you know, it was hot in the cabin.
And whatever happened to that 50€ deposit?
F**k off. That´s what.
None. Evreything's horrible.
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