Vanderbilt Motel

★☆☆☆☆
  • 2 Linden Ln

    Hyde Park, NY 12538

    Map & Directions
  • 845-229-7100

About Vanderbilt Motel

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Mon. - Sun. 24 Hours

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I just returned home from the worst experience of my life. This motel was the worst place I've ever stayed. Yes, the experience starts as soon as you open the door. The smell of stale cigarette smoke is over whelming. The room was filthy, and only had one working light bulb. The bathroom was disgusting and dirty. Thank heavens I brought some clorox wipes with me, at least I could clean the toilet seat before using it. The toilet paper was a used roll and half was gone. The bathroom door was full of holes, where it looked like it was punched and kicked in. There was holes in the bathroom ceiling where I suppose a vent fan should have been, but was missing. There were dead bugs in the bed, and once the bedspread was pulled back you could see just how filthy the mattresses were. The last straw was when we opened the dresser drawer and found cigarette ashes, cigarette butts, and half a bottle of beer in the top drawer. This place needs to be condemned. Although we were refused a refund, we decided we would rather cut our losses and leave before we caught something that would require medical treatment. Please sleep in your car before you decide to risk your health by staying in the Vanderbuilt Motel. This is the worst place I've ever seen that was still in business.

1
★☆☆☆☆

I just returned home from the worst experience of my life. This motel was the worst place I've ever stayed. Yes, the experience starts as soon as you open the door. The smell of stale cigarette smoke is over whelming. The room was filthy, and only had one working light bulb. The bathroom was disgusting and dirty. Thank heavens I brought some clorox wipes with me, at least I could clean the toilet seat before using it. The toilet paper was a used roll and half was gone. The bathroom door was full of holes, where it looked like it was punched and kicked in. There was holes in the bathroom ceiling where I suppose a vent fan should have been, but was missing. There were dead bugs in the bed, and once the bedspread was pulled back you could see just how filthy the mattresses were. The last straw was when we opened the dresser drawer and found cigarette ashes, cigarette butts, and half a bottle of beer in the top drawer. This place needs to be condemned. Although we were refused a refund, we decided we would rather cut our losses and leave before we caught something that would require medical treatment. Please sleep in your car before you decide to risk your health by staying in the Vanderbuilt Motel. This is the worst place I've ever seen that was still in business.

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The following is a faithful account of the time that my sister and I stayed at the Vanderbilt because it was the only motel in town that would take dogs...??Finally we came upon the Vanderbilt Inn. With a name like Vanderbilt we thought it couldn??t be too bad. I went up to the office and dinged the bell on the counter. The manager came out in his pajamas and I asked the dreaded question: ??Do you accept dogs?? Even though the sign behind his desk said ??No Pets Allowed?, he gave us a look that said ??for you nice girls, I will make an exception??. But even though his exception cost us an extra $20, we felt pretty lucky to have a place to rest our heads. Or so we thought?We could not have been more than a foot in the room when we were assaulted by the most disgusting odor either of us had ever encountered. In fact, to call it an odor does not do it justice. The room was thick with a powerful stench of stale cigarette smoke and urine. In the humidity, the smell took on a life of its own. It clung to our hair, clothing, skin, luggage, and even the fur on my dog??s coat. And, we did not just smell, we inhaled it. With every breath, we tasted it in our mouth and throats. ??What kind of person would expose other people to such a revolting place and charge them $75 for the experience?? we wondered! Certainly not someone with a conscience. We kept the door open while we brought in the rest of our luggage hoping that the smell would escape. But we were not that lucky. This was not the kind of stench that merely lingers in the air and blows away in the wind. No, this creature lives in the rugs, the walls, the curtains, and every piece of furniture in that room. We briefly, but seriously, considered sleeping in the car, but decided that since the smell had already begun to cling to us, we might as well stay. After all, while were asleep, at least we would be oblivious to this full scale assault on our senses. Unfortunately, sleeping required actually touching something in the room. Luckily, we had both brought long pajama pants and long sleeved shirts. With socks on, the only part of our bodies that were exposed to the room, were our heads. Not wanting our faces to touch the pillowcases on those beds, we laid the shirts we had worn that day over the pillows. My sister, to her dismay, made the mistake, however, of crossing the room before she??d put socks on. And, as she did, she stepped in a section of the carpet in front of the television set that was drenched in urine. Given the late hour and the unpleasantness of our surroundings, we hoped this would be one of those nights where you fall asleep within minutes of laying down. Sadly, this was not to be one of those nights. You see, the smell of that room was not the kind that you get used to after a few minutes and then hardly notice. After at least half an hour in that room, we still experienced it as powerfully as we did when we first entered. We did our best to protect ourselves by pulling our hair over our faces in the hope that it would serve as a filter for our noses. That helped a little, but not enough. Not enough. It was some time before either of us reached the unconscious oblivion we both desired so desperately. I woke up before my sister the next morning and while I was walking the dog, I devised a plan for us to take showers, get dressed, and get out of the room before the smell could start to cling to us again. First, we removed all our belongings from the room except what we needed to shower and change. While one of us was showering, the other waited in the car with the dog. The objective was to get in the shower, scrub off the stench and then put on the bare minimum clothes necessary to run out to the car before the stench could start to cling again. There would be no doing hair or make-up in the bathroom, no precious seconds wasted putting on deodorant or lotion ?? we could do that in the car. We barely even bothered to dry off. We turned off the shower, threw on our clothes and sprinted from the bathroom through the room and out to the car. We may not have looked our best when we walked with wet hair and damp clothes into the diner down the street where we had breakfast, but we didn??t care. In fact, we were triumphant. We had defeated the enemy. We had escaped from that room smelling like ourselves and we were proud. Our stay at The Vanderbilt Inn was not one I would wish to repeat. Yet, to this day there is nothing funnier to me and my sister than reminiscing about that awful room.?

1
★☆☆☆☆

The following is a faithful account of the time that my sister and I stayed at the Vanderbilt because it was the only motel in town that would take dogs...??Finally we came upon the Vanderbilt Inn. With a name like Vanderbilt we thought it couldn??t be too bad. I went up to the office and dinged the bell on the counter. The manager came out in his pajamas and I asked the dreaded question: ??Do you accept dogs?? Even though the sign behind his desk said ??No Pets Allowed?, he gave us a look that said ??for you nice girls, I will make an exception??. But even though his exception cost us an extra $20, we felt pretty lucky to have a place to rest our heads. Or so we thought?We could not have been more than a foot in the room when we were assaulted by the most disgusting odor either of us had ever encountered. In fact, to call it an odor does not do it justice. The room was thick with a powerful stench of stale cigarette smoke and urine. In the humidity, the smell took on a life of its own. It clung to our hair, clothing, skin, luggage, and even the fur on my dog??s coat. And, we did not just smell, we inhaled it. With every breath, we tasted it in our mouth and throats. ??What kind of person would expose other people to such a revolting place and charge them $75 for the experience?? we wondered! Certainly not someone with a conscience. We kept the door open while we brought in the rest of our luggage hoping that the smell would escape. But we were not that lucky. This was not the kind of stench that merely lingers in the air and blows away in the wind. No, this creature lives in the rugs, the walls, the curtains, and every piece of furniture in that room. We briefly, but seriously, considered sleeping in the car, but decided that since the smell had already begun to cling to us, we might as well stay. After all, while were asleep, at least we would be oblivious to this full scale assault on our senses. Unfortunately, sleeping required actually touching something in the room. Luckily, we had both brought long pajama pants and long sleeved shirts. With socks on, the only part of our bodies that were exposed to the room, were our heads. Not wanting our faces to touch the pillowcases on those beds, we laid the shirts we had worn that day over the pillows. My sister, to her dismay, made the mistake, however, of crossing the room before she??d put socks on. And, as she did, she stepped in a section of the carpet in front of the television set that was drenched in urine. Given the late hour and the unpleasantness of our surroundings, we hoped this would be one of those nights where you fall asleep within minutes of laying down. Sadly, this was not to be one of those nights. You see, the smell of that room was not the kind that you get used to after a few minutes and then hardly notice. After at least half an hour in that room, we still experienced it as powerfully as we did when we first entered. We did our best to protect ourselves by pulling our hair over our faces in the hope that it would serve as a filter for our noses. That helped a little, but not enough. Not enough. It was some time before either of us reached the unconscious oblivion we both desired so desperately. I woke up before my sister the next morning and while I was walking the dog, I devised a plan for us to take showers, get dressed, and get out of the room before the smell could start to cling to us again. First, we removed all our belongings from the room except what we needed to shower and change. While one of us was showering, the other waited in the car with the dog. The objective was to get in the shower, scrub off the stench and then put on the bare minimum clothes necessary to run out to the car before the stench could start to cling again. There would be no doing hair or make-up in the bathroom, no precious seconds wasted putting on deodorant or lotion ?? we could do that in the car. We barely even bothered to dry off. We turned off the shower, threw on our clothes and sprinted from the bathroom through the room and out to the car. We may not have looked our best when we walked with wet hair and damp clothes into the diner down the street where we had breakfast, but we didn??t care. In fact, we were triumphant. We had defeated the enemy. We had escaped from that room smelling like ourselves and we were proud. Our stay at The Vanderbilt Inn was not one I would wish to repeat. Yet, to this day there is nothing funnier to me and my sister than reminiscing about that awful room.?

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