"On September 22, 2025, the taxi driver who brought us from the airport showed us the entrance to the City Hotel Matyas, a heavy rusty iron door. It also had a tasteless sign very high up, which you don’t see at first glance. We pushed the door open and found ourselves in front of a high-ceilinged dark corridor, with faded walls and a damaged floor. Ten steps preceded it, worn by the weather. Obviously, this is a 19th-century building.
We moved along the dark corridor and suddenly on the left we saw a light and a tasteless sign that read “Reception”. We followed the light and another very narrow corridor led us after many turns to a room, where there was indeed a counter that read “Reception”. We were greeted by an employee who checked our reservation and explained where our room was.
So we went back to the original dark hallway, climbed more worn and dirty stairs and arrived at a door with bars. To open the door we had to dial the code the employee gave us on the keypad. Then the door with bars opened and we found ourselves in front of a very dirty elevator. We went inside, went up to the second floor, and there another door on the left was waiting for the electronic key. We entered a hallway again, bright and clean this time but with a strong smell of cigarettes. We searched for the room and finally found it. At least this one was clean.
The next morning we started to have breakfast. The hotel employee had informed us that breakfast was served on... the fourth floor. So we took the dirty elevator again and went up to the fourth floor. But there we encountered closed doors and no sign of a restaurant. While searching, we discovered a bilingual sign that informed us that breakfast was served in... the next building.
We got back on the dirty elevator, went down to the ground floor, went to the “Reception” and complained to the employee, who informed us that by following another corridor, we would end up in another elevator, cleaner than the previous one, which would take us to the fourth floor, where the famous breakfast was served.
Indeed, they served us breakfast in two very old rooms, with tables without tablecloths and very stale bread.
The same inconvenience was repeated the next day, with the difference that on the door of the second “clean” elevator we discovered a new sign that politely apologized for the malfunction. In other words, to eat our second breakfast we were forced to climb four floors of stairs!
On the third day in the morning we ran out of this miserable building, where no one was interested in changing us clean sheets."