Welcome to W Goa, where the only thing five-star is your patience because everything else has absolutely left the chat. Let’s start with our first “suite” — an olfactory nightmare featuring the stench of rotten carpet. You’d think someone spilled a century-old curry here and decided it added “character.” Headaches included free of charge! The upgrade that followed was no better, unless you’re into insect roommates and a DIY broken tap experience. Fun fact: the carpets double as medieval torture devices — try walking barefoot, I dare you. But wait, there’s more! Need a buggy to get around? Prepare for a spiritual journey, because by the time one arrives, you’ll have contemplated your entire existence. Elon Musk will be waving at you from Mars while you’re still waiting to get to breakfast. This place doesn’t need a couple of extra staff; it needs a battalion—at least 100 people who can tell their left from their right and maybe crack a smile. The cabs? Oh, they’re an episode of Goan Gang Wars. If you’re a group of girls returning from a night out, be prepared to get financially mugged while the staff stands by, smirking like it’s the season finale of their favorite reality show. Hospitality? Never heard of her. W Goa, you’ve turned disappointment into an art form. Do yourself a favor, dear readers: book a shack on the beach. You’ll get better service, fresher air, and fewer insect cohabitants. At this rate, even a roadside dhaba might throw in a complimentary smile—something W Goa clearly cannot afford.
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