The Alpha Guest House in Southville was recently labelled the worst hotel in Britain, with claims of dirty rooms, outrageous rules and even fines for opening a window. SIMON PEEVERS went to find out for himself…

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As a journalist I am sometimes lucky enough to be sent to foreign places and put up in top hotels courtesy of some travel company or other.

But clearly I had done something to upset my editor when he ruled that I had to go and stay the night in, allegedly, the worst hotel in Britain – the Alpha Guest House in Southville.

In a BBC1 programme called UK’s Worst – Hotels?, it was said that guests at the Coronation Road lodgings faced fines of up to £50 for opening windows – and were refused refunds if they spent more than five minutes in the building.

Hidden cameras also apparently revealed a dirty bathroom, filthy bedrooms, and peeling wallpaper.

So it was with trepidation that I walked up to the front of the building and rang the bell. The door was eventually answered by a woman who eyed me with suspicion. She ushered me into the hallway where her male colleague gave me the once over with a metal detector!

And it wasn’t the hand-held type airport security staff have to check you over with, it was the full-sized version that you see people optimistically sweeping beaches with.

He said: “We have had some problems with security, I hope you don’t mind.”

I couldn’t really say no, but the most offensive thing he found in my luggage was a can of deodorant. Heaven knows what he was expecting.

On the signing-in form it said residents could not ask for a refund after being in the room for more than 30 minutes, which was at least better than the five minutes alleged by the BBC, but still odd in my opinion.

And as soon as I opened the door of my £18-a-night room the aroma of stale cigarettes hit me.

Still, at least the window was open – no hint of those forbidding signs, thankfully.

It was as I had expected. The walls were covered in old paper that was peeling away at points.

In other places it appeared to be scratched off, maybe by guests desperate to leave, and the carpet didn’t quite fulfil the wall-to-wall convention.

I could not face the sink once I had seen the brown rim of dirt around the lip of the glass provided.

The advert had promised satellite television, which I thought would at least provide some distraction.

Unfortunately, the power switch on the front of the telly was broken and the only way I could turn it on was at the mains, which I did with a trembling finger.

The box fizzed into life, but all the channels were poorly tuned, so I gave up and went out for the evening.

After a few pints with friends I made it back to the Guest House Paradismal at about 11.30pm and went straight to bed for a nervous night’s sleep.

The next day I opened a weary eye and my heart leapt when I realised I could now check out.

I went to the bathroom and found what looked like mould on the ceiling and more peeling wallpaper.

The grout around the edge of the bath and on the tiles was brown and dirty. The green bath looked clean enough, but I couldn’t be sure.

I decided to give it a skip and took my chances with breakfast.

In the dining room I was quite surprised to see Tory councillor Richard Eddy tucking into his traditional English.

I asked him first how his breakfast was and why he was staying in the worst hotel in Britain.

He said: “I had no idea that it was voted the worst and really I think it is rather unfair.

“I have stayed here a couple of times when it has been convenient. I was out with friends and I wanted to get into the office early the next morning so it was easy for me to stay here.

“I have travelled around quite a bit and have stayed in places in London which are far worse and cost more.”

The breakfast was no worse than the usual fare I shove down my neck in greasy spoon cafes most weekends. I ate quickly, sensing that I was close to getting out for good and had visions of my shower and my own bed.

On leaving, the suspicious landlord gave me a comments sheet to fill out.

Strangely, all the questions seemed to refer to points made by the BBC 1 programme. Was my room smelly? Did I find any of the notices offensive? Was the bathroom dirty?

I stepped outside and breathed in the first clean air for some hours and gratefully drove home.

It is clear that the Alpha Guest House is no Marriott – it was tatty, dirty in places, did not smell very nice, and is unlikely to win a Michelin star for its food. But I would have thought there are far worse places to stay in Bristol, let alone the rest of the country.

Besides, if it is good enough for a Bristol City Councillor – a cabinet member at that – it cannot be that bad.

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