Punthill Manhattan

Service from staff was great and friendly, clear instructions about late check in and easy process. Rooms need a bit of TLC and proper cleaning - bit dusty. Was there for 5 nights and didn’t get new towels or room clean, but it was the long weekend and we had a washer anyway. There’s construction going on next door but it only started on the day we left so not a big deal for us. Location is amazing - 2 mins and you’re at fed square and easy to get a tram. We walked everywhere. Would definitely book again next time we are down. Great value for money.

It's for all purposes decent, if you want the apartment amenities then this will have all you need. It's cheaply renovated, the cement under the carpet wasn't smoothed so you will feel sharp bumps as you walk around, the sheets are rough too. Other than that, it's clean and the staff were lovely.

It is now 2:09 AM. I am lying in this place that can barely be called a bed, typing out these words of despair. I’m staying in room B02. The room is nicely decorated, spacious, and clean — everything seems perfect, except for one thing: every five minutes, an enormous roar erupts from inside the walls. It feels as if all the heavy machinery in the world has been crammed into my room’s walls and turned on at once. It’s like ten thousand demons from hell are screaming right next to my ears. Every wall, every piece of ceiling, every floor tile is roaring, writhing, screaming — all desperately trying to bore into my skull and assault my already exhausted mind. Could it get any worse? Of course it can. After five agonizing minutes, God grants you five minutes of mercy, just long enough to inch your way toward the gates of sleep. But just as your fingertips brush against the edge of that paradise, another five-minute descent into hell begins. And when I’m jolted awake from the daze, I realize that nothing else in the world exists anymore — no war, no hunger, no pain — only the violent pounding of my heart and the screaming, trembling, deafening walls beside me that feel like they want to crush me. Perhaps a mutant superhero would enjoy sleeping in such an environment. But I am just an ordinary person who has had a terrible week. I came here alone, hoping to spend two short days exploring a new city. And yet, all life has given me in return is a fatigued body, a tormented spirit, and this damned, noisy room that never stops screaming, tearing, and shaking. So be it. I’ve had enough. To hell with dreams, to hell with life, to hell with reason. I’ll leave the key card in the room — five centimeters from the remnants of my shattered dreams — and walk out of this godforsaken box of noise and despair. I’ll find a hotel where I can finally get some peace, some real sleep, and catch my flight out of this wretched city tomorrow. In the end, nothing will remain to prove I was ever here — nothing but this review and the tear stains left on the pillow.