A rather attractive bar in the restaurant (which is mostly a breakfast room: Staropramen and a couple other commercial brands on tap. It was Valentine's night, so availability was probably limited, and I didn't say anything about the closetlike quarters I was assigned, just putting my bag in and going off to do stuff (mostly drink). This hotel consists of several buildings connected like a rabbit warren; the corridors, ill lit and ill-smelling, zig and zag, and as each building was built to different specifications. one might be on, say, floor 4 and go down a couple steps and find that one was now on floor 5. This is somewhat confusing. Returned tired and tipsy to a minibar making hideous noises (as if to say, you left me for a pub) that I resolved to ignore. But it turns out I couldn't do that, as someone had short-sheeted the bed - the employees must be disgruntled as the customers here - so I went downstairs to complain. The desk guy said that no rooms were available, so things rapidly escalated. I asked for the night manager; the desk clerk had said that the manager was out, and then when I said I'd wait, claimed that he was the manager, and luckily the real one showed up about when I had decided to throttle him. I made him come up to see the situation, by which time the minibar sounded as though a rock concert was going on inside, so he agreed the situation was impossible and came up with an empty, the excuse for their intransigeance being that they'd thought I was looking for a double room, and of course there was still a single in the house. The replacement was intrinsically noisier (but without a minibar concert) and perhaps even smaller, with a mildewy duvet on a lumpy, unattractive bed. I was too tired to complain further and was in a coma within a few minutes. Checked out of there as soon as I could. For my trouble I got nothing but a half-hearted apology and a promise by the day manager that next time I came (as if!) he would make sure I was taken care of. Breakfast: Full English in the downstairs restaurant, quite respectable, though not making up for the nastiness of the stay. Dear Hilton: this property should be cut loose from the chain and preferably razed or at the very least fumigated and converted into a prison.