Gleneagles hotel - Reviewed .
I worked for a summer season - four months - at the Gleneagles Hotel, . Mr Sinclair [ the manager ] picked my friend and i up from the station. He had a gruff manner, but seemed quite a nice man. I did not realise what I would witness over the next few months.
We started early and finished late, with a few hours off in the afternoon. We made and served early morning teas, cleaned the lounge and dining room, served breakfasts, cleaned the bedrooms and, in the early evening, prepared salads and so on and served dinners, after which we washed and dried cutlery, finishing around 10.30pm.
There was no porter, night porter, lunch-time bar person or still room assistant. All these roles were performed, in a fashion, by Mr Sinclair. When Mr Sinclair covered the still room duties at breakfast, making teas and coffees for the restaurant, guests would have finished eating their breakfast before their tea was made. If you tried to rush him, you would be shouted at."
"He went up and down the tables like a policeman, questioning the guests. He came across a set of teapots at a table for two. He realised because of their size they were meant for a table for four, and he asked the guests for a description of the waiter.
"He was bonkers.
They employed a barman only in the evenings, the bar being covered by Mr Sinclair at lunch time, though he was regularly late opening it. Mostly guests would wait patiently, but on one occasion some went to find Mr Sinclair. He eventually appeared and was heard to mutter how ridiculous it was people drinking at this time of the day - "bunch of cowboys".
One evening, around 10.45, a young mother was pressing the night porter service button at reception. After about 15 minutes, Mr Sinclair appeared in his dressing gown. When the guest asked if she could have a flask of hot water to heat her baby's bottle, he proceeded to berate her for getting him out of bed for such a trivial request.
The following day they were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the band to start the evening's dancing, as advertised in the hotel brochure.
When, an hour after it was supposed to start, there was still no sign of any music, the guests, who had put on their evening attire, complained.
"So Sinclair simply marched into the room, dumped a record player, with no records, in the middle of the floor, then he stormed off,"
Guests also recalled their attempts to order fresh strawberries and cream from the hotel menu for four nights in a row. "The first night we were told they were off, the second we were told they were finished, the third night we were told they were off and on the fourth night we were told they were finished.