Orange Apartments — Hotel in Grad Novalja

When the colour orange and what it symbolises used to cross my mind, I would think of the grace of Johan Cruyff in the Dutch orange kit, biting into the first ripe manadrin of the year on a hot spring morning, the amber glow inside a jack o lantern when my mind was full of childish wonder; though now the colour orange reminds me of something more significan a far darker side of humanity - Orange Apartments Stara Novalja. The cab screeched to a hault on arrival the taxi man hurridely throwing suitcases out on to the pavement mumbling about the ‘crazy man’ who owned the apartments’, the tyres spun off in the distance as the cars engine faded into the faint rumble of house music with unwanted features from the emptying of cannisters and the filling up of balloons; there was no turning back. Then he appeared through the cigarette smoke kicking cannisters aside as he walked to greet us he held his hand out to me “Hi I’m Milan...Welcome to Orange Apartments.” He showed us to our room on the third floor of the apartment the hallway light had broke he had explained as we navigated the dark staircase . Why would there be aneed for light in a place as dark as this. Upon reaching the aprtment intended for 8 guests we were shown to the six beds. I prayed to god there had been a misunderstanding. I prayed to Allah that night trying to sleep on the sofa, my alarm clocks ticking at home replaced by the bass from house music pulsating through the floor. Ironically in the light of day it got darker, the toilet paper was run on a ration stamp basis, beside the pool a 4 foot hole which had not been covered, the hole so grimey that not even Saddam himself would’ve sunken that low. On the sixth day the darkness consumed me, upon arriving with no key back to the location we did what had been instructed by our host knock on the door so he could let us in with the master key, The door opened slowly and Milan was not at the door instead his elderly mother had been sent on the grueling errand, eighty years old if she was a day, helping three separate groups get into their apartments I watched on in distress as she ruefully climbed the stairs, the stairs intended for her son at this ungodly hour, each elevated marble slab another betrayal.As our cab pulled away from Stara Novalja, I turned back for one more look upon it. The suns reflection causing the facade of the building to glow in the distance. Ironic I thought. Light attracted to the...

The canisters rattled. The house music was deafening. Hideout was upon us. As me and my friends stepped foot into the orange apartments, it soon became quite clear that this was not a place you wanted to be. The strong stench of drug abuse danced beneath our nostrils. The owner assured us this would be a nice stay, boy was he wrong. As each day passed, the sun got brighter, however the island got darker. The pool was scattered with the remains of drug fulled parties, making entering the pool an impossible job. The owner provided 1 roll of toilet paper for myself and 6 other guests, needless to say the small, dingy toilet was not a place to behold after the first day. The Wifi provided might as we'll been a potato with an antenna, which further blocked off communications with the outside world. If you are thinking of booking to stay at Orange Apartments, ask yourself 1 question, why am i subjecting myself...

Really medicore establishment. Living room and kichen were large enough with induction oven and big fridge included but shared pool got green by the end of the week, there is no window or fan for toilet which is shared with bathroom, wifi was terrible and beds squealed by even the slightest movement. The terase equiped for...