Monday, March 29, 2010

Colmar Tropicale – A Berjaya Failure

The only thing that’s French here is my husband. Seriously.

After working hard and neglecting my husband for weeks, we decided to take a short weekend break from the heat of the city. Since we had been to Genting Highland and Cameron Highland, we decided to hit Colmar Tropicale in Bukit Tinggi this time. Plus, my husband was feeling rather homesick.

I don’t normally write hotel reviews but this time, I thought I would. It isn’t as much as because it was so good that I needed to rave about it, but it was so insufferably painful that I would like to warn anyone who happens to read this to steer clear from this God awful place.

To say that there’s nothing good about it, would be untrue. The only one good thing about it is the photographer who took the photos for its website here. He/she was so good that he/she made the whole thing looked much better than it really is.

Our RM312 superior room came with two complimentary large nails sticking out from one of the bed posts where the wooded knob had came off. The sharp ends were pointing upwards. I was speechless when I first saw it. It was one of the few times when I regretted not bringing my camera.

The hallway of the hotel was dirty and the whole place smelled musty and old. I think it is fair to say that whoever owns this place has no right to charge anyone the RM10 entrance fee, much less hotel rooms that cost anything above RM80.

What was more appalling is how it’s shamelessly called a French-themed resort. Apart from the poor imitation of French Alsatian architecture, French boulangerie and French dessert, the only thing which was authentically French was my husband. We fought hard not to throw up the RM12 mille feuille we ordered for dessert.

We were very annoyed when the hotel put on a movie from one of the Astro movie channels which was projected onto a large screen in the middle of the open court yard.  It wasn’t even a good movie. There was nothing French about watching Rob Schneider’s body being possessed by a female stripper.

When I said this to my husband, he cried out incredulously, “There is nothing French about playing a movie on a big screen in the middle of a public square, while people are trying to eat and have a conversation!”

Well, in the end, we have to admit that the movie wasn’t completely frivolous. The whole place was so ridiculously boring that the resort had to do something without having to spend much, right?

Seriously, for those who are thinking to go there, please don’t. You have to trust me. They shouldn’t have called the place Colmar. It should be called cauchemar instead. If you’re French, you’ll know what I mean.

Please see here for other reviews about this place.

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