Ranking: 
You would argue all day about which is Bathtub’s most lovely road, however the grandest is Nice Pulteney Road.
The newly opened No 15 Nice Pulteney, which as soon as belonged to the Salvation Military, is bang in the course of this beautiful Georgian terrace. Nobody may fail to be enthusiastic about opening its large door and stepping in onto the flagstone ground.
Sadly, the house owners — who personal three different institutions in Bathtub — have burdened this architectural masterpiece with gimmicky litter to such an extent that the very best factor concerning the place is searching on the buildings throughout the highway.
Low quantity: The Inspector was upset with the service at No 15 Nice Pulteney
There are musical devices on a wall going up the steps; bottles of scent on one other, cameras on a 3rd. There’s some fascinating authentic artwork, nevertheless it’s all so overdone — like a bowl of luscious strawberries drowned in wealthy cream.
We’re paying a whopping £360 (down from £372 after bargaining) for the Henrietta Suite, the one room left. Throw in parking for £20, drinks and dinner and also you received’t get out of right here for a lot lower than £500. Value it? Afraid not.
We get one tiny bar of cleaning soap to be shared between bathtub, basin and bathe, plus a cheap-looking tube of physique wash; the plexiglass espresso desk housing classic jewelry, crystals and miniature sneakers is way too massive for the room; and a fussy chandelier does its greatest to remove from the sash home windows and excessive ceilings.
However the actual disappointment is the eating room. What’s with the fake cooking ranges, certainly one of which has pretend smoke rising from it? This room deserves linen tablecloths. As an alternative, it will get laminated tables and an Italian waitress with such poor English that ordering is a trial.
Central: The resort is positioned bang in the course of what’s arguably Bathtub’s grandest terrace
We ask for G&Ts and are proven an intensive gin menu. We go for Tanqueray — there may be none. Later, we ask for the home crimson and are informed there’s none of that, both. The salt grinder doesn’t work and neither does its alternative.
After a few goodish steaks and salad, we go upstairs to Bar 15, the place an extended piece of gold timber hangs from the ceiling above extra plexiglass tables. The music is so ghastly that we take our glasses of wine to our room.
At breakfast, a household of six need, fairly naturally, to sit down collectively, however the bolshy man in cost is reluctant to place three small tables collectively. I think it is because he is aware of the eating room will not be large enough to cater for 22 rooms.
At try, I complain about the home wine difficulty and counsel that in future a special wine needs to be supplied on the identical worth. ‘I’ll inform the chef,’ says the French receptionist.
I’d have a phrase with administration — and quick.
