Waiting Century Hotel (Shanghai Jing'an Railway Station)

強烈建議老闆下一次裝修統一換門，隔音質量太差了，差到什麼程度，差到路過別人房間裏面放個屁都能聽到。還有那個穿堂風衹要一吹，門就得晃蕩一下，聽起來就像是有人在外面輕推門，跟 timi **一樣，另外房間有蚊子，如果不是蚊子那就是蟲子，反正咬出紅疙瘩了，要不是白天暴走太累了，真難想象這一夜怎麼過

1.房內設施：冰箱，電話，床頭燈全是壞的 2.床品：睡覺整個人塌陷進去的，睡的人腰痠背痛，整晚睡不好，要不是連訂兩晚不退錢，我睡一晚就跑了 3.號稱48元的自助早餐，連早餐店20元的豆漿油條都不值，菜基本上都涼的，還寥寥無幾 4.還是餐廳：現煮小麪，服務員也是，不樂意煮可以選擇不做這份工作，我們一家過去吃飯，在那裡吆三喝四的，吃個麪還要看別人眼色，這是趕人呢？年紀大的稍微好些，會問好，一點培訓都不做嗎？ 5.前台：當天下午3點多入住，居然房間還沒收拾出來，攜程的提前入住簡直**，我家是兩大兩小，活這麼久第一次遇着前台不主動給小童牙刷拖鞋的，要客人主動要的，告訴前台要續住，然後前台就開始長達十幾分鐘的推銷辦卡，説房間緊張，辦卡成為會員才能續住！！！ 6.衞生：第一次給的房間桌子上竟然還有上一位住户留下的不明物體，當時真的是被噁心到了，給前台反映，就一句不好意思就沒了

這樣説吧 説態度還可以的 配套真的不敢恭維 首先 洗手間是自動感應的 那個自動感應偵測的不是人吧 洗個澡能自動關幾次燈 然後這個洗手間的門是共享的 衹能洗澡去廁所二揀其一 乾濕分離了個寂寞 其次 房間不用插房卡 電梯不用拍房卡 説好聽的就是自由啊 什麼人都能上來呢 果然安全和自由不能兼得 再説 電視和網絡吧 這是一間酒店應該有的基本條件 入住的時候網絡剛好都故障了 智能小度都用不了 電視也開不了 第一次住什麼也沒有的酒店 可能這就是沉浸式體驗史前原始人的生活吧 確實能夠響應環保呢 最後也最重要的一點 一看就是歷史悠久的酒店 不能説是殘破吧 就是比較有年代感 想知道還是要自己感受一下的 好的還是有的 至少提供洗衣珠 不過嘛 洗衣房也是自動感應的 晚上去洗衣服也是能體驗一閃一閃亮晶晶的 再説一下他的早餐 果然是自由自由 根本沒有檢票 你買沒買早餐也是能夠進去食的 所以説 我買了早餐券 我就當了冤大頭了 員工也很少 食個自助早餐還得拼桌 理解的 現在都市人生活冷漠嘛 這樣可以促進人與人之間的交流 至於食物啊 雖然選擇不多 但倒是好食的 他也有人工麪吧 有餛飩有湯麪有拌麪 這麼一家 復古（有年代感）、種族共融（人鬼殊途感應）、響應環保（整晚沒有網絡）、原始生活體驗（沒有電視也沒有網絡）、自由爛漫（進出酒店房卡都不需要的） 酒店 怎麼不值得一個5分好評呢 雖然5分對應0星 但他一閃一閃亮晶晶 星星都跑這裏來了 看看她下次有沒有改善吧 我不知道會不會再來 但是我覺得這種原始生活的體驗還是不適合我 可能我比較守規矩吧 自由進出還是不太適合我的 環保復古固然直則提倡 但是我還沒有這麼高層次 敝人不才 還請各地友人自行斟酌吧 Hark! Gather ye round, gentlefolk, and lend thine ears to a tale of a hostel most curious—yea, a place where comfort doth go to die, and amenities are but whispers in the wind. “All that glisters is not gold.” — The Merchant of Venice Let us commence with the privy, that chamber of cleansing and contemplation. Lo! It boasts a sensor most magical, yet blind as Justice herself. The lights flicker and flee mid-shower, as if protesting the nudity within. The door, shared betwixt toilet and shower, doth force a cruel choice: to bathe or to relieve oneself, but ne’er both. The dry and wet areas are so estranged, one might think them lovers scorned. Next, the security—or lack thereof. No key card dost thou need, neither for chamber nor lift. 'Tis liberty, they say! Aye, the kind that invites knaves and spectres alike. “Give me liberty, or give me a burglar,” seems the motto here. Safety and freedom, like Montague and Capulet, cannot dwell together. As for the entertainments—TV and internet, those twin pillars of modern respite—alas! Upon mine arrival, the Wi-Fi lay slain, and the television, a black mirror reflecting only despair. Even my Xiaodu device, that oracle of the East, refused to speak. Verily, I felt transported to the Pleistocene epoch, where fire was a luxury and conversation was with rocks. “Now is the winter of our discontent.” — Richard III The hotel, they claim, is historic. Indeed, it hath aged like a noble cheese—fragrant, crumbling, and best left untouched. To truly grasp its essence, one must dwell within its walls and hear the whispers of centuries past... and possibly the plumbing. Yet not all is doom and gloom! The laundry beads sparkle like fairy dust, and the laundry room itself is a disco of blinking lights—ideal for those who wish to wash their tunics beneath the stars. In sum, this establishment is a paradox wrapped in a riddle, served with a side of mildew. It is retro （in the sense that time forgot it）, inclusive （for both mortals and phantoms）, eco-friendly （no power, no emissions）, and liberating （no locks, no laws）. Surely, such a place deserveth five stars—one for each of the five stages of grief. Will I return? Methinks not. This primitive pilgrimage hath tested my soul. I am but a humble creature of habit, and this wild freedom doth unsettle me. Yet, if thou art a brave soul, unshackled by modernity, then venture forth! As for me, I shall seek lodgings where the lights stay lit and the toilet doth not require a scheduling conflict. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” — Romeo and Juliet