Trying to Find a Hotel Room.

Mr. Hawthorne and I reluctantly left Biltmore House that evening. Our next order of business: find a hotel room for the night. Mr. H. has a Garmin Street Pilot which is a really nice little gadget. You can put in an address and it will tell you the exact route to take to get there. You can also check for lodging, restaurants, and gas stations, among other things. So we start checking for lodging. There's only one place in Asheville with a vacancy - I think Econo Lodge - and they want $169 for the night. (Apparently, there was some type of Fall Festival going on that weekend and everything had been booked.) When Mr. H. hears that a room in a dump is $169, he says, "Hell, NOooooooo!!!!! We ain't paying that for a seedy, rat-infested piece of crap. We'll show you, you scalpers." So, Mr. Hawthorne decides to head West in search of a reasonably priced hotel. Thirty miles later, we still haven't found a room. Everything is booked. We finally stop at a Comfort Inn to beg. The ladies there tell us of a hotel 15 miles back East that's "off the beaten path and it's not too bad." Even our Garmin didn't have it listed in its data banks. So we follow the Harley Dudes that they also directed to this lovely little inn. Fifteen miles back tracking we make it to a NoTown in NoWhere and finally find a room. $100 a night. At this point, I would've paid $200 for a tent. Lucky for us, our room is in the "newer" part of the establishment. It is now 8:30. I am starving.


Here's the charming inn:

We asked the innkeeper to recommend a restaurant and we were directed to a cafeteria not too far away. Normally, I hate cafeterias and buffets, but this was some damn good food. I had a green salad with blue cheese dressing and some very flavorful roast beef with mashed potatoes. We shared a multiple bean salad and a broccoli salad. Mr. H. had the fried fish. $17.

We return to our hotel room and take a look-see. Frankly, I don't like what I see.

Here's the bathroom. Window directly over the toilet with no shade or curtain. There is 1/4 roll of toilet paper left. Notice the stocked towels on the towel rack. I ask Mr. Hawthorne if there are any amenities, like the miniature soap bars or the shampoos and conditioners. He gives me a withering look. Alas, there were no mints on my pillow.

This is the side of my mattress. I have no idea what this stain is. I don't think I want to know.

This is the side of Mr. H.'s mattress.
This does not look good.











We left the next morning. Bright and early, believe me. While loading up the car, I ran into one of the Harley Dudes taking pictures of his wife or girlfriend in front of the inn. He told me he just wanted to show the folks back home what a $100/night hotel room looked like. Heh!

Mr. Hawthorne encountered the Harley Dudes outside and asked them if they enjoyed their stay.
Harley Dude: "Don't even get me started, man! We found BED BUGS!!! I'm calling the Chamber of Commerce and the Better Business Bureau."
At that point, I started itching in places I don't like to itch in.

If you ever see this place, here's a heads up: Keep driving.