Shakespeare Hotel

Excellent location, just a 5-minute walk from Paddington Station. I only stayed for one night, but the price was very reasonable considering the convenience. The breakfast was also nice. Sound insulation is not great, and noise from neighboring rooms can be heard easily, but this is understandable given the affordable price. Overall, a good value stay.

The heater was not working I got ill in that freezing room

The whole place shakes all day and night from its position above the tube lines. I’m sure I got the worst room and when I asked to move wasn’t even offered an apology for having the WORST night sleep of my life. That said location was perfect and it was very clean.

“To stay, or not to stay… that is the question. Having stayed, I can confirm the answer should probably have been ‘not to stay’.” Shakespeare would be absolutely furious to have his illustrious name associated with this hotel. I imagine he’d rise from his grave, wander through reception, take one look around and immediately start writing The Tragedy of the Shakespeare Hotel. And frankly, it would be a five-act tragedy. Act I: The Water Upon arrival, I discovered that the water provided was NON-POTABLE. For those unfamiliar with the term, this means DO NOT DRINK IT. Nothing says “welcome to our hotel” quite like being handed water with the same warning you’d expect to see on a puddle outside a nuclear facility. Act II: The Room The room itself appeared to have been designed according to the ancient principle of “How little can we get away with providing?” There was a kettle, which was reassuring — until we were reminded that it was strictly for boiling water only, presumably because the kettle has a very strict moral code. Unfortunately, the lead was apparently designed by someone who had never encountered a socket. It wouldn’t reach any of the available plugs unless you physically moved the kettle, turning the simple act of making a cup of tea into a minor logistical operation. By the time you’d found a socket, repositioned the kettle and successfully boiled the water, you’d earned the tea.. Cleanliness was… creative. The shower water seemed to operate according to its own mysterious timetable. Hot water was not so much a service as a surprise appearance. The TV was present, which was technically true, although describing it as entertainment would be rather like describing a candle as central heating. And the size of the room? Let’s just say if you enjoy turning around without accidentally entering the bathroom, you may struggle. Act III: The Breakfast Breakfast was another Shakespearean tragedy. I have experienced more exciting meals on aeroplanes, and at least on an aeroplane you get the comforting knowledge that you are eventually going somewhere. Act IV: The Architecture There is no elevator, which is fine if you enjoy hauling your belongings up and down stairs while reconsidering every decision that led you to this point. Then there are the steps down to the dining room — with no handrail. Because apparently the hotel wanted breakfast to come with an optional extreme-sports experience. And should you survive that, there is the small matter of the doors slamming all night. Every few minutes: BANG. Then silence. Then: BANG. By 3am, I was no longer a guest. I was an unwilling participant in an avant-garde percussion concert. Act V: The Redemption There were, mercifully, a few positives. There were plenty of plugs, which is important because after a night here you will need to charge approximately 17 devices to recover from the experience. The receptionist — Tasos? — was genuinely nice and deserves a special mention for being one of the few rays of sunshine in this particular Shakespearean catastrophe. And, to be fair, it was quiet outside. Which was lovely. Unfortunately, the noise was apparently happening inside. In conclusion: Shakespeare gave us Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear and Romeo and Juliet. The Shakespeare Hotel has now given us “Room 4: The Guest Who Just Wanted a Kettle.” If the Bard himself were reviewing this establishment, I suspect his final words would be: “Parting is such sweet relief.”