Balletti Palace Hotel

The people at the desk and in the breakfast room were kind and helpful. After I inquired about the town and a little of its history the man at the desk gave me the most wonderful run down about the Papal Palace and Italian history in general. I had a blast hearing about the world from his well-considered point of view.

Staff are lovely, I'll admit. However, that does not make up for the ghostly atmosphere and simple barrenness of the rooms. A few bits of cheap pottery could even spice the place up a bit. You could probably make a few pots by scraping the crusted wallpaper from the rotted brick and moulding it together with some of the risotto they do downstairs. The beds creak more than the floorboards - which feel already feel unsteady; as if you could step down into your room and plunge to the first floor, through a tunnel of cobwebs. My walls were paper thin too - only constructed from flakes of dust and grime built up through the years - meaning I could hear every word that spat from the bloody Americans next door. Didn't get an ounce of sleep. Not that I ever would have been able to anyways: beside me was an air conditioning unit [at least that's what I thought it was] simply a metal, rattling box, only puffing warm air into all of my bodily canals every so often, continuously blowing my eyelids open every time they closed to take me away to dream land. The breakfast was decent. Good bread. Alright pasta - for Italy, I mean. Yet still, I wouldn't go here. Not even for a single night. The building is riddled with insects, ghosts and more insects. It has an old, simply lukewarm feel. Feels entirely ancient and pink - like a nursing or children's home. Genuinely creepy. If you're going to come - just be kind to the staff, I think they're all fully aware they're working in a rat-scavenged, sickening, rotting building - wanting to go home themselves. That's all from me. Don't come 'ere - save yourselves!