And, oh dear, the Sheffield Hilton haven’t got it quite right:
- Check in at 9.00pm last night was a bit of a farce. Arriving after a 360 mile drive in lashing rain wasn’t what I wanted. Euan, the receptionist, was a student on work experience who clearly hasn’t got the brand standard sorted yet. Telling me that “the computer has been playing up all day” was of no great interest to me, although he did give me vouchers for two free drinks at the bar to compensate;
- My room was enormous (two double beds) but cold;
- The shower this morning was cold no matter how many taps I turned;
- The girl on breakfast reception hasn’t heard about eye contact. “room number please?” “Is that Mr. Barrow?” “Tea or coffee sir?” All delivered as she stared over my left shoulder as if a parrot were sat there winking at her.
My only memorable customer service experience was with the man who, as I write, is hoovering around me in the lounge – very chatty and a local bloke with a sense of humour.
It’s a lovely, modern building but the team need more training.