We’ve been coming to this hotel every summer for the past four years. It became our little tradition — a quick getaway where we could sink into the soft beds by the pool, linger over their beautiful menu, and be spoiled with food that felt just as special as the setting. Every visit felt like coming home; they treated us like family, and we cherished those small, thoughtful touches that made the place shine. This summer, we arrived with the same excitement we always did, already imagining the rhythm of our days there. But almost instantly, something felt different. The restaurant tables weren’t set the way they used to be, and instead of the generous menu we loved, we were handed just a single page with only a few options. Lunch was fine, but not memorable — and we told ourselves to wait for dinner, because that was always the highlight. The room, too, felt stripped of its charm. No warm welcome note, no cookies waiting for us, and the towels were scratchy instead of soft. We tried not to let it bother us, but when we went down to the pool and saw the beautiful sunbeds gone, the kind we used to spend hours on, it hit us. This wasn’t the same place anymore. Dinner confirmed what we feared: the small menu from lunch was, in fact, the dinner menu. Gone was the variety, the care, the sense of abundance. The hotel we had loved so much had changed — and not in the ways that make you fall in love all over again. It’s hard to say goodbye to a place that held so many memories for us, but it no longer feels worth the price or the promise. We’ll always remember the summers we spent here, but it’s time to find somewhere new to make new traditions.
自動翻訳
