Ridgeland Getaway: Days Inn & Suites Luxury Awaits!
Ridgeland Getaway: Days Inn & Suites - Luxury? More Like… Surprisingly Okay? (A Messy Review)
Okay, so, "Luxury Awaits!" is a bold tagline for a Days Inn. Let's just get that out of the way. But after my recent stay at the Ridgeland Getaway, let's just say… reality is a funny thing. I went in expecting budget bliss, and emerged… well, somewhere in the middle. Let's dive in, shall we? My brain is still unpacking it all.
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Ridgeland Getaway Days Inn Review | Mississippi Hotels | Ridgeland Hotel Deals | Accessible Hotel | Free Wi-Fi | Swimming Pool | Breakfast Included | Spa Services | Family-Friendly Hotel | Business Travel | Car Parking | Days Inn & Suites | Clean Hotel | Sanitized Rooms | COVID-19 Safety | [Your City/Region] Hotel
First Impressions: Accessibility & That All-Important First Step.
Accessibility. Okay, this is important, and I'm happy to report, they've made a decent effort. Wheelchair accessible? Yes! At least, from what I could gather. I didn't need it personally, but saw ramps and elevators. A big win. Elevator: Check. I'm thrilled about that. Made getting to my room on the 7th floor a breeze, even with my heavy suitcase full of… well, too many souvenirs. They also listed facilities for disabled guests, a good sign!
On-Site Grub & Guzzle: Fueled by Coffee, Fear, and the Occasional Salad
Alright, the food. This is where things get…interesting. Restaurants: Plural! (Well, technically, one with a slightly confused menu.) There was a buffet in the restaurant. I'm a buffet enthusiast, but I didn't exactly feel thrilled. It's a buffet, folks, not a Michelin star experience. The Asian cuisine in the restaurant was… there. Look, I tried, okay? There was a distinct lack of authentic punch. But hey, points for effort! Coffee shop? Nope (unless you count the instant stuff in your room which, let's be honest, I do).
[Rambling Time!] This is where my brain goes a little sideways. That poolside bar? Couldn't find it. I walked around. I asked. Maybe it only appears on Tuesdays when the moon is in the seventh house. The pool, thankfully, was real and a pleasant temperature! I was half expecting a mirage at that point. More on the pool later. I saw a happy hour listed. I think I missed it. Clearly, I'm not used to that sort of luxury. Note to self: get your priorities straight!
Cleanliness & Safety: Sanitized to Within an Inch of Its Life (Almost!)
Okay, here's the one thing actually comforting -- the COVID-19 protocol. They are SERIOUS. Daily disinfection in common areas? Check. Rooms sanitized between stays? Double check. And, dare I say, triple check. It felt like walking into a hospital room. Anti-viral cleaning products: I could practically smell the bleach, which is oddly reassuring. Hand sanitizer: Everywhere. Everywhere. The staff was trained, they wore masks… I felt safe, even if I was also slightly paranoid. I also noticed a doctor/nurse on call, which is a nice touch, and individually-wrapped food options.
Relaxing Your Worries Away (If You Can Find the Spa, That Is)
Spa? Spa/sauna? Steamroom? This is where the "Luxury Awaits!" starts to fray a bit around the edges. There was a listing, but I think I may have missed it. Maybe it was hidden behind one of the many shrines (just kidding!). The pool with a view was pretty though.
The fitness center? I saw something that might loosely resemble a gym. I’m more of a lie-on-the-beach-and-hope-for-the-best kinda person when it comes to exercise. You just know that the treadmill is going to give up the ghost after 5 minutes.
In-Room Amenities - The Small Comforts (and the Slightly Less Comforting)
Okay, the room. It was… a room. Air conditioning? Blessedly, yes. MS is hot and humid. Free Wi-Fi in every room? Hallelujah. Internet access – wireless: Praise be! I mean, if you can't get online these days, you're basically in exile. Blackout curtains? Crucial for sleeping off the buffet hangover.
[Stream of Consciousness Rant on Small Details]
I’m going to be honest here. My room had a slightly weird smell. It was… a mix of cleaning products and something else I couldn't quite place. Maybe old hotel linens? The hair dryer was one of those ancient wall-mounted things that were designed with zero consideration for actual hair. The linens, though? Surprisingly soft. The slippers they provided in the closet were nice, which makes up for the fact that the sheets were a bit too thin. There was a coffee/tea maker so I could have my caffeine fix in the morning before the buffet madness. The extra long bed was appreciated.
The Good, the Bad, and the (Mostly) Clean: Final Verdict
Look, Ridgeland Getaway isn't the Ritz. But for the price, it was… acceptable. I'd give it a solid 3.5 out of 5 stars. The cleanliness and safety protocols were genuinely impressive. The accessibility was a huge plus. The staff were friendly and helpful. The food was… well, filling. Would I stay again? Probably. Especially if I get a craving for that… questionable buffet. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find that elusive poolside bar.
Things I Loved (and the little things that made all the difference):
- Free Wi-Fi: Saved my sanity.
- Pool: Perfect for a late afternoon plunge, the view was amazing.
- Air Conditioning: Essential for a comfortable sleep in the humid climate.
- The Front Desk Staff: Friendly, helpful and always smiling
Things That Could Use Some Work (and a little constructive criticism):
- The Ambiguity of the "Luxury": Lower those expectations, people!
- The Buffet: Needs a serious upgrade.
- Finding the Poolside Bar: Seriously, where is it?
- That Room Smell: Sort it out.
Final Thoughts:
Ridgeland Getaway is a reasonably clean and safe hotel, especially considering the times. The security features and cleaning regimes put me at ease, and the location is great with easy access to what Ridgeland has to offer. Don't go expecting a five-star experience, and you'll be pleasantly surprised. Consider Ridgeland Getaway for your next stay, it might just be right for you. Now, off to find that happy hour…wish me luck!!
Escape to Denver: Luxury Suites Await at Park Meadows!
Okay, buckle up, buttercups, because this ain't your grandma's itinerary. We're talking Days Inn & Suites by Wyndham Ridgeland, Mississippi, and a trip that promises… well, let's just say surprises. This is gonna be less “precise schedule” and more “chaotic symphony of questionable decisions and pure, unadulterated life.”
Days Inn & Suites by Wyndham Ridgeland, MS: The Anti-Itinerary (AKA, My Brain on Vacation)
Day 1: Arrival and the Quest for the Elusive Ice Machine
- Afternoon (ish): Arrive at the Days Inn. The exterior? Exactly what you'd expect: beige brick, a vaguely ominous pool, and a parking lot that screams, "This is where dreams… go to rest." Check-in. Pray that the elevator isn't broken – because, let's be real, it probably is.
- The Great Ice Machine Debacle: Okay, this is crucial. Crucial. My room temperature is not ideal. I need ice. This begins the quest. I check the machine. It's a metal box, clearly past its prime, emitting a low, mournful whine. The sign? "Out of Order." Cue the internal scream. Is this a metaphor for my entire life?! I trudge down the hall, two floors down, to find another machine like a mirage appears and… SUCCESS! A handful of ice cubes blesses me. Victory! (I vow to hoard them like precious jewels. This might sound overkill, but you haven't lived the desert of a too heated hotel room.)
- Evening: Okay, the pool situation requires investigation. I venture downstairs… the water is actually a sickly green, and the "lounge chairs" are… well, let's just say they've seen better decades. I return to my room, defeated but resilient. Commence pizza delivery. Pray it arrives before the ice melts. (Spoiler: it doesn't, but the pizza is lukewarm, and I feel a kinship with it.)
- Night: Stare at the ceiling, contemplating the meaning of life, the perils of air conditioning, and whether or not the flickering fluorescent light above my bed is judging me. I decide it is. I also decide to write, which is what I’m doing now.
Day 2: The Hopes and Fears of Jackson
- Morning: Morning at a motel. Wake up, feel sluggish, and attempt to work on a project that I keep procrastinating. Eventually, I give up on all that, do some quick breakfast, and drink the worst coffee I've ever tasted. I also realize the water pressure in the shower is akin to a gentle drizzle. Begin a gentle rage.
- Mid-morning: Venture out. Decent ride to Jackson. I've heard about Jackson, Mississippi, and I guess… I'm not completely sure what I'm doing there. Find a place for lunch. The food is okay; the prices are good. It really is nice when you don't have to spend a lot of money.
- Afternoon: I'm really not sure. I want to see some art, but the museums seem too… organized. I feel like I should "experience" something. Begin wandering. Get mildly lost. Embrace it. Discover a cute little park with a surprisingly well-maintained fountain. Take pictures. Feel a fleeting sense of peace.
- Evening: Return to Ridgeland. Back to the Days Inn. Consider a second pizza for dinner, but the guilt is real. Instead, I decide to watch… something on TV. The options are limited. The remote is sticky. I choose a documentary about… something. Get hopelessly sidetracked by the commercial breaks. Fall asleep halfway through, dreaming of ice.
Day 3: The Unscheduled Day and the Pursuit of Wonder
- Morning: Okay, officially abandoning all pretense of following plans. The hotel's breakfast is… well, let’s just say it fulfills some of the requirements of “breakfast.” I avoid the questionable scrambled eggs and load up on the sugary cereal. I grab a banana, that's a good choice, right?
- Mid-morning: I wander. That's the plan. Wander aimlessly. Maybe I'll find something interesting. Maybe I'll end up in a Dollar General. Both are equally likely. I make a spontaneous decision, which is the absolute best way to travel.
- Afternoon: I start feeling a little antsy, and I think about leaving. Maybe I’ll drive a little. Back on the road. I find a small road, and I drive down it. I find some local restaurants to grab a bite. The people are nice. I love how friendly people are.
- Evening: Back at the hotel. I decide to be a "good person." I sit in a chair by the hotel pool, maybe read a book. I watch families spend time, and I laugh. I don't really want to do anything.
Day 4: The Grand Finale (or, the Sweet Release of Escape)
- Morning: Pack. Survey the damage – the scattered remnants of pizza boxes, empty soda bottles, and the lingering scent of hotel shampoo. Feel a strange sense of… accomplishment? Yeah, let's go with that.
- Mid-morning: Final checks. Did I leave anything vital? Eyeglasses? Wallet? Half-eaten bag of chips? Nope. I'm ready to go. One last trip to the ice machine. For old time's sake. Maybe I'll even leave a tip.
- Afternoon: Check out. The front desk clerk is… surprisingly cheerful. A smile. I realize there is something about the experience that makes me feel like a better person.
- Departure: Head for the highway. Maybe looking backwards, but most of the time, I'm looking forward. And yeah, I might not have seen the sights or done the things. But let’s just say, I had an experience.
So, there you have it. The Days Inn & Suites in Ridgeland, MS, through the looking glass of my slightly unhinged perspective. Remember, this isn’t just a travel itinerary; it's a testament to the messy, beautiful, and often ridiculous process of being alive. And as for the ice machine? It's out there, waiting. Always.
Escape to Truth or Consequences: Your Travelodge Adventure Awaits!
Ridgeland Getaway: Days Inn & Suites – The Questions That Keep You Up at Night (and My Rambling Answers)
Okay, spill the beans: Is this place REALLY "luxury awaits?" Like, does luxury involve me being served breakfast in bed by a particularly fluffy golden retriever? (Asking for… well, me.)
Alright, lemme just say… "luxury" is a subjective term, right? I went in with HIGH expectations, picturing myself swaddled in Egyptian cotton, sipping something sparkly. The *Days Inn & Suites* part should have clued me in. Look, the complimentary breakfast? More like a continental combat zone. Picture it: a swirling vortex of grabby hands, lukewarm coffee (which tasted suspiciously like… well, nothing), and the frantic struggle to snag the last waffle. My "luxury" moment involved successfully navigating the waffle maker without burning myself *or* anyone else. Victory within reach.
The pool. TELL ME about the pool! Is it a sparkling oasis of relaxation, or the kind of pool that gives you a rash just looking at it?
Okay, the pool... This is where things get… complicated. On paper, it looked delightful. In reality? Well, let's just say my initial dip was punctuated by a distinct *chlorine smell* and a brief, panicky moment where I wasn’t entirely convinced it *wasn’t* a giant, oddly-shaped bathtub. The water was…fine, I guess. Not exactly crystal clear, more like… a slightly tinted aquamarine. Think "slightly used swimming water". I’m not sure I’d describe it as “oasis,” but, hey, I survived, rash-free! (Mostly.) The kids were having a BLAST, though, which counts for something. (Silver lining!)
What's the deal with the Wi-Fi? Because, honestly, I live online. Can I actually *work* from the hotel room, or am I going to be tethered to the lobby like some kind of digital slave?
Ah, the Wi-Fi. This is where the *real* adventure began. Or, rather, where the adventure stalled. They *said* it was complimentary. They *said* it was high-speed. They *said* a lot of things. The reality? It was more like dial-up from 1998, masquerading as a modern marvel. I’m not even kidding. I *tried* to work. I *tried* to download a single dang email. I stared at that loading circle for what felt like an eternity. It was like watching paint dry, but in a far more frustrating, soul-crushing way. Ultimately, I ended up tethered to the lobby, clutching my laptop like a lifeline, and desperately trying to catch a signal. My productivity? Let's just say it suffered. My *patience*? Also suffered. In fact, I’m pretty sure I aged approximately five years during that Wi-Fi debacle.
Is the staff friendly? Because a smile goes a long way, especially when you’re battling questionable Wi-Fi and slightly-murky pool water.
Okay, the staff... That's where things actually *rose above* average. Honestly, the staff were lovely. Truly. They were polite, helpful, and genuinely seemed to care that I wasn't having the greatest tech-related experience. They offered extra towels, directions, a sympathetic ear, and even a free (and surprisingly good) coffee from their little in-house machine. They definitely saved the day and went above and beyond. They may have single-handedly rescued my opinion. They definitely made it a more pleasant experience. I'm pretty sure they're the only reason I might ever consider going back.
Let's talk about those "suites". What made it "luxury"? Besides the waffle maker.
Alright, let's break down the suite... The word "suite', in my opinion, is being used liberally. There was a sofa, an armchair, a decent-sized bed, and a microwave. Luxury? Maybe not. More like "slightly more spacious than a standard hotel room." But the bed was comfortable, thank goodness! I did appreciate the extra space. It was nice to spread out, let's say that. The whole place was clean. No scary surprises. So, it was more spacious than a standard, so... that counts for something, right? My expectations were low, so I was not disappointed.
Parking? Easy? Nightmare? Did I have to fight a parking-space gladiator?
Parking... A surprisingly easy win! There was plenty of parking. I didn't have to circle the lot for twenty minutes. I didn't have to engage in any high-stakes parking-space battles. I pulled right in, parked, and walked right up the front door. It was like a tiny triumph. A small victory in the face of lukewarm breakfast and questionable Wi-Fi.
Alright, the burning question: Would you actually go back? (Be honest!)
Would I go back? Hmm... Honestly? Maybe. If I had a *really* tight budget and/or needed a place to crash for a night, with a super low expectation bar. The staff, the actual people who worked there, are wonderful, really lovely. And the bed… it was comfy. The Wi-Fi situation? That needs some serious CPR. The pool? Well, as long as I don't end up glowing in the dark, I'm good. So yeah. Maybe. But only if those waffles are available, or I'm bringing my own Wi-Fi hotspot. And someone promises to keep the kids away from the pool when I want to be there.
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