"Hilton, congratulations. You’ve built a hotel in Belfast that looks the part. Check-in was smooth, staff were friendly, my room was spotless, modern, and ready early. The location is excellent – right in the heart of the city. On paper, it should have been a flawless stay.
But then came the only thing that really matters: sleep.
Hilton – it’s 2025, not 1975. And yet here we are, with you still sticking bargain-bin open-coil mattresses in your rooms. Every tiny movement was met with a metallic clonk and twang like a rusty trampoline from a skip. Support? None. Comfort? Laughable. I woke up with sore hips and the horrible realisation that the floor probably would’ve been kinder. Honestly, this mattress wouldn’t cut it in a £30-a-night B&B, never mind a Hilton-branded hotel. Disgraceful.
Then there’s the air conditioning. Oh yes, you can “control” it – right down to a tropical 19°. Which, let me tell you, is far too hot to sleep in. So there I was, roasting in a room that wouldn’t cool, stuck on a mattress that groaned like scrap metal every time I dared to breathe. That’s not rest – that’s medieval punishment disguised in modern décor.
And that’s the great shame. The hotel itself is beautiful: clean, modern, smartly run, well-situated. But hotels aren’t judged on how Instagrammable the lobby is. They’re judged on whether you can actually get a night’s sleep
"
