That'll Duman

The Duman hotel, looking very maritime.

What's it like to live in a hotel? Do you feel like Nikoli Tesla? In the Waldoorf Astoria? In New York? Around the turn of the 20th Century? 

A little bit, but not really.

Probably the most notable thing about the Duman hotel, our humble home for the last month, is the massive atrium in the middle of the building. Flooded with light throughout the day, it transforms at night. If I were a masked despot and my good-for-nothing son came back to cause trouble and I wanted to cut his hand off with a magical sword, then this would be the perfect setting (see below).

Inside the Duman: more death-star than frigate.

It's also in a fabulous location: by the park, the river, the old town, and a short walk from pretty much everywhere. All of this, of course, pales into insignificance when considering the benefits of having MEGA center just next door. It's MEGA.

The restaurant's panoramic views almost make up for the shoddy food; the chicken has the mechanical properties of a pencil eraser. There's little joy with the laundry department either - the bill is $400 and counting yet they shrunk my lovely new shirt. My little brother will probably be the main benefactor here. I'm not impressed.

Do stay here, but don't eat here, don't do your laundry here, and watch out for Storm Troopers.