Royal Hotel Snake Valley — Hotel in Grampians

What brought me to Snake Valley? Well the name Snake Valley for a start plus the Google Streetview footage of this hotel which dates from circa 2008 and has it looking all mysterious and a bit creepy resulting in me being inexplicably drawn to it as I am by such things. So the very next Saturday I took a tram and a train and a bus then I walked 20km and I arrived kind of feeling a bit like a drifter and it turns out the hotel is not ominous at all but warm and inviting, run by super lovely people and filled with a good bunch of friendly local punters who've, among other means, arrived by Harley and Humvee and Horse. The beers were cold and the Parma was delicious and I made a bunch of new pals, played pool, squeezed some rock anthems out of the jukebox, fell asleep in a comfy bed, had a nice breakfast and scored a ride back into the city with two of the aforementioned pals which saved me doing my 8 hour multi-modal journey in reverse on a hangover. Ten out of ten on the wonderfully unexpected joyful small town...

We stayed the night as we needed somewhere economical, comfortable and close enough to sovereign hill. The modest rooms were perfectly comfortable. The beds were firm and had electric blankets. There was a portable heater in the room. The bed linen was clean and simple... No ugly, old bed spreads that you get in some small town accommodation. No bad smells, everything was clean enough and the walls looked freshly painted. There were some breakfast basics in a small kitchenette, but no option for a proper breakfast as the hotel doesn't open till midday. It would have been nice to have a room with a table and chairs or small lounge for after hours and breakfast. I didn't shower so can't comment on the shared bathroom. It was too cold, but it was clean. All in all, I was surprised they weren't fully booked by the sovereign hill crowd. It was an easy 25 min drive...

It’s a small run down kitchen where the local farmers go. Don’t bother.

My were we disappointed. I’m still trying to find the words to describe our experience.

From the moment we walked in we got an eerie feeling about the place. It was cold, old and run down. We should have just listened to our gut instinct and walked out.

I don’t know who made our food but I sure as hell hope it wasn’t the bushy haired woman who brought it out to us. She was sweating over the plates profusely as she woddled them over to our table. That first bite was a struggle to swallow let me tell you. I asked for well-done, instead I get sweat and blood.

To make matters worse, the useless, bald headed lump behind the bar had a staring problem, it was very uncomfortable. I’m not sure if any of you remember Uncle Fester from the Adams Family (Spitting...