شيلتون سويتس

I was taking my brother-in-law and little nephew for a boy's night out in Bengaluru. My parents' apartment in Ulsoor is too small to accommodate that many guests, so I was looking for a nice place near their residence for the three of us to stay over that night. I had almost made my mind up and booked a place at the Radison when I rang Shilton and spoke to Salma. She was quite helpful and offered me the Penthouse suite. The idea of a rooftop room with a terrace overlooking the Ulsoor Rd--MG Road intersection appealed to me and I went ahead and booked us in. This place was cheaper than the Radison, and that should have been a warning sign. A few hours before we reached Bengaluru, I rang the reception to confirm our booking -- because the reception hadn't been able to accept my overseas Visa card over the phone, and of course I didn't have any other way to pay. That was when the chap at the reception clarified that they didn't actually have any parking and that we would have to park on the street -- which was also where their boss parked, he explained. We got there, paid for a parking spot and hauled our luggage to the reception. I paid up for the entire stay and we snuggled into the tiny elevator only to find that the elevator stopped at the 3rd floor and that we'd have to go up a flight of stairs to the Penthouse. My penthouse-fuelled joy was still gushing, so we made it up to the room with a smile. That smile was instantly wiped out when the door to the room opened and we were greeted by a dank odour. The place smelled like no one had stayed there for a while. The furnishings were falling apart and some lights worked. The ceiling seemed to be held up by some form of magic, the kitchenette looked like a warning to not heat up any food there, and the bathroom smelled terrible. The bed linen neither looked great nor smelled fresh. Thankfully, the little additional mattress I'd asked for was provided and I hoped to heaven my little nephew wouldn't notice how not-so-fresh it smelled. That night, my brother-in-law opted for the relative freshness of the hard sofa in the sit-out and I resigned myself to a night on a certainly-not-fresh bed. The reception's attitude was less than helpful, and Salma wasn't around either -- when I rang the chap down there and explained that our room appeared to be a dungeon from medieval Europe where a farty dragon had been previously housed, he seemed rather surprised. Finally exasperated, I asked him to just speedily send someone up with air freshener before one of us jumped off the darn roof in disgust. He did exactly that -- there was no apology, there was no effort to come up and see what it was about the room that was bothering us or any other gesture that one would expect in a hotel in the middle of Bengaluru city. I think the Shilton called itself a three star hotel, but I'm not sure any of those stars are real. Anyway, a rather unhelpful chap turned up with a liquid spraying siphon and sprayed some