Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre
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Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre Wilkes-Barre Reviews
Never Ever EVER Again! Sep 24, 2010
I don't think I can fully describe how awful this place was, how dreadful the service was, or how hellish the entire experience was. I truly think I'd rather spend the night in a bus station.
I was on an extended business trip to 22 cities in 16 states. That's a lot of motels. One of those cities was, unfortunately, Wilkes-Barre. We arrived at their Ramada on the afternoon of March 16th. The doors opened to an acrid cloud of cigarette smoke and the stench stale beer. We waded across the lobby through a lake of Bud Lite (the rug sloshed beneath our feet) and a crowd of loud drunks, so thick that it literally took us about 10 minutes of elbowing and having beer spilled upon us before we were able to reach the front desk, which was littered with half emptied plastic cups and beer bottles.
It was a little difficult to communicate with the clerk, who had difficulty hearing me over the music and the shouting. He gave me my card key and I began a slow journey to the elevator bank. When we finally got there, drunken, smoking revelers got on and off the elevator. I've never had the pleasure of riding in an elevator packed full of smoking drunks before. It was a memorable experience.
We stopped at each floor. On each, there were new horrors. Empty beer bottles on the floors. Spilled ashtrays. Mirrors spattered with who knows what.
When we reached the seventh floor, we got off and made our way to our rooms. When I reached my room, I noticed that the room next to mine was open and full of people. They invited me in for a drink, which I declined.
I called the front desk to ask what provisions they had made to make sure the night would be peaceful. It took quite a while for them to pick up the phone, and when they finally did, I was told that "We can't control what people do in their rooms."
I asked to speak to the manager. I was told that none were available. "Where were they, I asked?" "Serving beer," I was told. "When could I speak to one?" "It would be a couple of hours," I was told. I waited. I'm still waiting.
I called for room service. I was told there was none that day. I went to the vending machines. They were empty. I went to work. I had to be careful leaving the Ramada. People were throwing things out of windows. One of the hotel workers had beer poured upon him from above.
I came back at 11pm. There were fewer people in the lobby but the rugs were soggy with spilled beer. There were more empty bottles and cups. One of the elevators was out of order. The other was damaged, but marginally operational.
I tried to settle down to sleep. The shouts and noises from the hall made it difficult. Calls to the front desk went unanswered.
At about 5 am, after being awakened again, I went down stairs to speak to somebody, anybody. I asked the tired looking clerk where the night manager could be found. He pointed to a man picking up beer bottles, who introduced himself as the general manager.
I told him how unhappy I was. I told him how disappointed I was with Ramada. He told me about the package deal they offered for Saint Patrick's Day, which included lodging and lots of beer. I told him that while I admired him for keeping drunks off the road, I did not appreciate him turning the Ramada into a drunk tank while I was paying for it.
He expressed some surprise at what he characterized as the exploits of a few wild kids. But I was there. I saw the drunks of every age, some suspiciously young, some more than old enough to know better, all of them drunk from the trough filled and refilled by Ramada.
I told him that, not only did I expect to not be charged for that night, but that I expected some recompense above and beyond that.
He told me that he was tired, but that he would "take care of it" all in the morning. He would "make it all right." He took down my telephone number and told me he would call.
I'm still waiting for that call.
When I got up to leave the next morning, I had time (while waiting for the only elevator that was still functional) to study the eloquently scrawled "F*** You" on the mirrored wall. I was thankful that I was not traveling with my family.
Oh, yes. The final insult and injury.
There was a package that had been FedExed to arrive on that Saturday. It was returned, coded as "undeliverable." That means that either the front desk refused it, or the courier was unable to make it through the crowd in the lobby. That package had my paycheck in it.
That was the icing on the cake.
This all took place on Saint Patrick's day (March 17th) 2002. After writing a letter to the corporate headquarters, I received a half hearted letter of apology from the Wilkes-Barre General Manager (dated May 29) for the "inconvenience" I experienced.
After a second letter to Ramada, they sent me a check for $30. They wouldn't even refund my room charge!
So while I CERTAINLY would never stay at the Wilkes-Barre Ramada, I am also quite disappointed at the entire corporate entity that is "Ramada." I travel a lot, and don't always have a choice of where I stay, but when the choice is mine, it isn't Ramada.
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Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre Overview
The Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre is located off Interstate 81 at Exit 168. Among the nearby popular sites include the Wachovia Center, Wyoming Seminary, Hanover Industrial Park, Wilkes University and the Steamtown National Historical Site. An array of dining locations is also within close range.
All guest rooms at the Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre are provided with free wireless Internet connections. All rooms also come with satellite televisions, ironing facilities, coffee makers, hair dryers and telephones with free local calls.
The Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre provides meeting and banquet facilities that can cater up to 500 guests. This hotel also offers a 24-hour front desk, a fitness room, two restaurants, catering services, free high-speed Internet access and laundry facilities. The on-site parking area accommodates trucks and buses.
Ramada Inn Wilkes Barre Amenities