At bidding, I indicated need for handicapped accessible room. Upon winning bid, I called the "hotel" directly and indicated my need for an accessible room. I was reassured that would be dealt with at check in. At check in, we again described my need for an accessible room. I was told by the vapid-tongued clerk, "You got this on Priceline. You can't just pick and choose your room."
We were then assigned THE MOST REMOTE ROOM ON THE PROPERTY; hundreds of yards laterally from the entrance and hundreds of feet from any elevator, along hallways constantly cluttered with room service meal trays, bundles of garbage and laundry, newspapers, maid carts, and assorted other obstacles to an immobile user. As our stay involved many comings and goings to and from the MOTEL (yes, motel), the excruciating walks to and from the room spoiled our trip.
A few minutes after we entered our room (just long enough to take off sweaty clothing and "get comfortable") a maintenance goon with a hand truck barged in. He took my insulin out of the mini-refrigerator and set it aside. He loaded the refrigerator and microwave on the hand truck and left. After a few choice words by me to the motel manager over the phone, the maintenance goon returned with the hand truck, followed by a little guy with a tie, who demanded to see my insulin, then told the goon to put back the appliances. As they left the little guy handed me a couple of discount coupons for the motel hog trough. Apparently, PRICELINE’s low life customers are subject to this appliance confiscation unless they have insulin.
Physically, the room was obviously an afterthought, occupying little spaces left over after construction of the main rooms. It was cramped by usual Holiday Inn standards. Unlike every other room, which looked out upon either the inner courtyard or the outward city views, the one window in our room looked down on a corridor along another bank of rooms. It appeared that every other room had a little balcony area where patrons could sit and look directly into our window. All in all, ours appeared to be THE PRICELINE ROOM, the inferior little spot held for us lesser Priceline customers.
During our stay, the shower nozzle was so loose that fully 90% of the water flooded down the wall directly into the drain, a mere trickle of spray passing through for bathing. I had them fix the nozzle, but the facility was still unsatisfactory for a disabled person. Unable by infirmity to reach the new nozzle, subsequent showers were about as effective as pissing into the wind. I had to sit, teetering on the edge of the tub, the skirt of the imitation shower curtain between. Of course, the fake shower curtain did not prevent the bathroom and the carpet in front of the bathroom door from getting flooded.
We were surprised and disappointed to find that this motel, unlike every single Holiday Inn we have stayed in before, did not have a complimentary breakfast bar. Instead there was a small, pathetic, overpriced "buffet." YUCH! We made sure not to reward the motel for failing to provide this common amenity by always eating breakfast elsewhere.
Speaking of other Holiday Inns, my Priceline confirmation clearly stated in great big bold letters right at the top of the page, "HOLIDAY INN - Downtown/Riverwalk." Therefore, in preparation, we located that HOTEL on a city caricature map and made our itinerary and local transportation plans accordingly. When we arrived in San Antonio and drove to the street address, we were astonished to find instead this knockoff Holiday motel. We felt tricked and betrayed. Of course, much of our planning was screwed and we missed many of our activities as a result.
All in all, this Priceline reservation was a total disaster. Since we do not want the worst that providers have to offer, and because we do not wish to be treated as second class citizens for having made a deal on Priceline, and because I require accessible facilities, not outrageous maltreatment, and because we expect the same amenities as any common traveler, we will not be seeking lodging through Priceline ever again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Whenever travel accommodations come up in conversation around me, I intend to share anecdotally what I have sorely learned through this fiasco.