Siena. A lovely city we couldn’t wait to leave.  This entry is a Horrific Hotel Alert.  The Palazzo (and I use this term very loosely) Fani Mignanelli is one place to stay away from, in my not-so-humble opinion.

It was after midnight on the only night we stayed there, and the bar below  was in full swing.  Lots of EuroShimmy, bass-rumbling Hip-Hop and loud Italians.   It was a hot night, and we tried to turn on the air conditioning to give us a little white noise.   Yeah, right.  Not working.  I called down to the front desk and was told to put in earplugs since the air conditioning won’t be turned on until summer.

Put earplugs in? Did I hear that right? Since when did that constitute good customer service? What happened to an apology and an attempt to make things more bearable? Apparently, that is not the style of this horrible place.  Boy, did I mess up on this booking.  Vlad told me my reputation as a travel planner was seriously in jeopardy.  Damn Travel Gods.  They caught me with this one.

I was battling what was looking to be a nasty ear infection and earplugs were not an option.  Earrings were almost a no-no at that point, and NOTHING was going to make me stuff anything into my ears.  I was paying 120 euros for a room that was too hot to sleep in, PLUS being over a very noisy bar, and this was what I got?  I should have figured something was wrong when they made a big point about the fact we were upgraded to a junior suite.  Probably, the people who paid for the suite heard the noise the first night, felt the heat with no relief from A/C, and moved to the quiet and cool room at the back of the place that was reserved for us.    Charming.

We decided  the Palazzo Fani Mignanelli was definitely in the Fifth Circle of Hell.  Dante must have slept here at one point and got the idea for his greatest work – I’m convinced of that

The next morning while Vlad was lugging the suitcases down the rickety elevator, I received a substantial discount on the room only after I called the booking site to register a complaint about the lack of  customer service – all in front of the desk-guy, who seemed a bit flustered.  Uh-uh,  bucko – I have traveled too much to not recognize a racket and I refuse to be taken in.

We then shook the Siena dust from our feet and headed to the train station for the journey to Cinque Terre, where this blog will resume.

Oh, and a message to the charming Manager – if you don’t like hearing about this blog, Put Earplugs In.