The Crabtree Inn

When we arrived the inn was in complete darkness and was told the building had lost all power which they hoped to get fixed within the evening.. We already had plans for the evening, therefore had no time to find alternative accommodation so we we made do using the lights from our cell phones. I had a bad nights sleep due to not having my Cpap machine. And had a long journey the next day which wasn’t ideal. We have not had an official apology or been offered any form of compensation for all this inconvenience!!!

The place is NOTHING like the photo. Admittedly, I arrived later than the check-in time but that doesn't affect my review of the room I had paid for in advance. For a start, the building is painted black all over. When I arrived, there was no light whatsoever and the entire place looked deserted. Derelict, almost. Nil sign of life. I knocked at the front door. Nothing. I rang the 'emergency number' from the notice on the door and nobody answered. I then rang a different hotel a few miles away and booked a room, writing off the £60 I'd paid for this place. As I took a final walk round (pouring with rain and a dark January evening), I had come across the tiny car park, which is hidden behind. It has the narrowest entrance that scraped my wing mirror. There was no parking space, which is why I had pulled up outside, instead. A text arrived, with no name or introduction, telling me how to find the entrance, via a rather unedifying walk through a gate and garden, to the back of the pub. I was met by a woman (thank goodness. At this point, had it been a man, I'd have run) who ushered me in. I apologised for being later than the 8pm check-in ultimatum. You'd have thought, by now, it was 2am. It was actually 9.45pm, as I'd walked around for about twenty wretched minutes, trying to find out whether the entire place was shut down or not. My room was at the top of some grubby stairs and outside my door was an old mattress, leaning against the wall, and sundry, ugly detritus. The room itself was unpleasant. The walls and skirting boards hadn't been cleaned for- well, ever? The shower-room carpet was shudderingly dirty, with visible bits all over it, and hadn't been hoovered for who-knows-how- long. A lone moth fluttered about in there. A siren went off and did so about every ten minutes: the pub is right beside a level-crossing, whose gates issue a screaming alarm as they close. Everything in the room was cheap and not cheerful. Mercifully, the bed linen was clean or I'd have been out of there instantly. It was all so dismal and third-rate that I actually laughed to myself. It didn't stop there. There was no hot water. No. Hot. Water. Not even warm; not even tepid. So I had no shower, no warm water in which to wash. NO. HOT. WATER, either at night or in the morning. In fact, having run the 'hot' tap for ages, the water simply trickled to a halt, although it gushed out when I turned on the cold tap. Same story for the basin AND the shower. The loo needed to have a long and intense conversation with some bleach but I guess that's never happened, either. Don't go there, unless you enjoy years'-old dirt, a general air of carelessness and not bothering, and an overall feeling of not wishing to touch anything. It. Was. Awful.

Good value for money