We found the Glencoe to have a nice central location, which was a good
start. Upon arrival though, the proprietor wasn't in the least bit
friendly, he gave us a room number and we had to wander the halls
ourselves, while he lingered at the bottom of the steps watching us
Aesthetically, the room itself wasn't that bad; the colour-scheme matched and there were two Queen Anne style chairs in front of the bay window that overlooked the street.
The bathroom, while a decent size, could have done with a bit of TLC. The tiles’ grout/caulking had stains which made it appear rather grubby in there. The shower spouted freezing water no matter what we did with it. We had to get our smiling (ha!) proprietor to sort it out for us.
The mattress was comfy, though if amour was on our minds that night, it was thwarted by a metal bed that creaked loud enough to wake the dead in Scarborough, though hopefully not Jimmy Saville. Shudder.
The next morning we trotted off to the dining room where Smiler appeared and asked if we wanted full English. We placed our order and off he went, never offering us the delights of the cereal/juice table (which in hindsight was a blessing) and again we had to find that ourselves. We skipped the cardboard-looking cereal and opted for what turned out to be some orange-coloured fruit-juice drink. Not juice. Probably hadn’t been near any fruit.
Our ‘full’ English arrived, oddly luke warm considering the wait, and we discovered that the local supermarket's 'value' range continued throughout our breakfast. It was edible. More or less. The toast was cold, brown bread (not wholemeal) and the coffee instant.
In our room there was a list of charges, one of them including £200 for lost keys.