Letterkenny Court Hotel

Never stay in the Letterkenny Court Hotel.
Let this be a tenet to live your life by, a pearl of wisdom to pass onto your children, along with such perennials as 'don't eat yellow snow' or 'never back Holland to win the World Cup'. I recently spent a Saturday night in this establishment and have never before witnessed such poor service, extortionate and opportunistic pricing and downright bad manners from an organisation plying their trade in the hospitality industry.
The first and overriding complaint is cost. I was staying as part of a stag party of twelve; crammed into a mixture of twin and treble rooms. The rate for this was €80 per head, with no reduction for the trebles which were in reality family rooms, with two kids-size beds jammed beside each other in a corner. On top of this, the hotel demanded a €50 deposit from each party member, fair enough for a large group of lads you might say; the clincher was that this had to be paid in CASH.
As we had just crossed to border from the North, this required a mass exodus to the cash point, where the Republic's banks benefited to the tune of several ATM fees. To turn the screw a little more, the hotel demanded full room rate for one of the party who had been unable to attend - no concession in lieu of the €1500 or so that had been handed over for the combination of one and two night stays.
This was all becoming rather annoying but not especially unusual for an Irish hotel in high season. The sting in the tail, the coup de grace, the piece de resistance (and so on) was reserved for the next morning.
Come the checkout time of 10.30, a mass of guests descended on the reception area, looking for their €50 so that they could continue on their way and, in our case at least, never darken the door of the Letterkenny Court Hotel again. Before anyone could make good their escape, the elite hotel room police unit had to check each of the parties' rooms. Whether these people do this as a part of their overall responsibilities or whether it is a job title in itself (prior experience working for Papa Doc Duvalier's secret police a bonus), is unclear. In any case, our room passed the test (we somehow managed to avoid the trap of the ashtray in our non-smoking room that has doubtless snared many a previous punter), and it was time to hit the road.
Only we hadn't accounted for the car-park. The car-park at the Letterkenny Court Hotel is a stealth tax, analogous to a lucrative numbers game that runs in tandem with the main racket of the hotel. On entering the car park there is a large sign stating that the cost of parking is €2.40 per hour and 10c each hour thereafter. I had been parked for around 15 hours so was anticipating a charge of around €3. On inserting my ticket into the machine the figure of €7 flashed up. Assuming a mistake I went over to the car-parking attendant who, with trademark local hospitality told me 'not my problem sir, you can leave it and walk home if you like' (sir was, of course, given the Homer Simpson inflexion).
I then decided to take my complaint to the Hotel, carrying the wooden sign into the lobby for reference. After pointing out that the rate was clearly was written in black and white, I was told that there were in fact conditions attached and that these were displayed on another sign at the desk. As this appeared to be just slightly larger than a postage stamp and facing toward the receptionist I am still in the dark as to what these conditions are. There could be a dependency on a cow jumping over the moon at the precise time you push the button for your ticket for all I know. In my view this is false advertising.
The whole experience is probably not unlike having your wallet taken by a mugger who decides to come back for your small change just as you are picking yourself up, and then decides to hit you one last kick in the guts before walking away, whistling.
Sensing defeat at this point I resigned myself to pointing out that this was the worst hotel I had stayed in anywhere in the world. This was met with the response that no-one else was complaining (at which point it wouldn't have been a surprise to see John Cleese himself goose-stepping into the lobby "Any complaints ladies? How about you Major? No? Right!"). It was then stated that I should perhaps instead question the company I keep. Now I'm all for a bit of self criticism , but it's not going to take me seven years sitting on a pillar in Tibet to conclude that the people who I have grown up with are not scumbags, but rather that the Letterkenny Court is a very, very, bad hotel.
The parting shot of the receptionist was that they were fully booked for the next few days and were doing very well thank you very much. This combination of arrogance and disdain for the very people who sustain the business is fuelled by a belief that people will continue to stay regardless of quality of service or value. This is not right, just because it appears in the first page of a Google search on 'hotel Letterkenny' does not mean it is any good. In an ideal world it would also appear on page one with 'daylight robbery Letterkenny' and 'extremely bad hotel Letterkenny.
I don't know who runs this hotel but they really need to take a look at the service they are providing. Letterkenny is a nice town with good nightlife and serves as a good base for exploring the surrounding area. If you do find yourself in this neck of the woods, can I just refer you back to the start of this piece - never, under any circumstances, stay in the Letterkenny Court Hotel.