Manahan Stadium's BEST Hotel: Unbeatable Views & Luxury!
Okay, buckle up, buttercups, because we're diving headfirst into the glittering, possibly slightly imperfect world of Manahan Stadium's BEST Hotel: Unbeatable Views & Luxury! This isn't your average hotel review; it's a messy, honest, and (hopefully) hilarious descent into plush carpets and questionable decisions. Let's get this show on the road! Oh, and SEO? Yeah, we'll sprinkle that in like glitter on a birthday cake. Gotta get those clicks, right?
The Grand Entrance (and First Impressions!)
Right off the bat, the name is a bit… ambitious. "BEST Hotel"? That's setting the bar HIGH. But hey, I like a challenge! The unbeatable views better be legit, because I'm a sucker for a good panorama.
Accessibility - Did They Think of Everyone?
Okay, crucial first point: Accessibility. Crucial. This is where a hotel can fail miserably, or truly shine. I'm happy to report there's mention of facilities for disabled guests. Great. The elevator is a non-negotiable. But, (and this is a big BUT), I'd need a real-life, on-the-ground report to truly assess it. I'm talking, detailed specifics: are the hallways wide enough? Is the bathroom truly accessible? Are the ramps gentle? Because "facilities" can mean anything from "a slightly wider door" to "actual thoughtful design."
What About the Extras?
- Car Parking: Free on-site parking is a huge win, especially in a city where parking is a blood sport. Car power charging station? Brilliant!
- Airport Transfer & Taxi Service: Essential stuff. Makes arriving and departing SO much easier.
- Check-in/Out [Express]: Love it. I'm a busy person, give me my key and let me roam!
- Contactless Check-in/out: Especially relevant in today's world. Good, good.
- Doorman: Adds a touch of class. And someone to lug my bags. I'm here for it.
Rooms – Where the Magic (and the Mess) Happens
Alright, let's get down to brass tacks: the rooms. They better live up to the "luxury" promise.
- Available in All Rooms: Air conditioning (PRAISE!), Internet access (both LAN and Wi-Fi - Free, thank GOD), and a whole host of other goodies.
- The Essentials: Air conditioning, Alarm clock, Bathtub (YES!), Blackout curtains (sleep is sacred!), Coffee/tea maker (essential for this caffeine fiend!). Free bottled water (always appreciated). In-room safe box (always a good idea to protect your valuables).
- The Luxury Bits: Bathrobes, Slippers (comfy!), Hair dryer, Mini bar (temptation!), On-demand movies, Separate shower/bathtub, Soundproofing (oh, sweet silence!), Wake-up service, Window that opens (fresh air FTW!).
- The "That’s Nice" Bits: Extra long bed, Interconnecting room(s) available (for families, or if you REALLY don't like your travel companion!), Laptop workspace (for pretending to work while you surf the web).
My personal experience: I once stayed in a "luxury" hotel, and the "window that opens" was a pathetic crack. Just enough air to tease you. And the coffee maker? More like a coffee tease. So, I'm already holding my breath here.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking - Feed Me!
Okay, this is another make-or-break area. I am a foodie. I NEED good food. Let's see what's on offer:
- Restaurants: A la carte, buffet, and (hopefully) actual good choices. Asian cuisine, International cuisine, if they can deliver that with any level of quality, it's a BIG win.
- Bars: A classic. Poolside bar is a must, and a Happy Hour is basically a survival necessity.
- Coffee Shop/Snack Bar: Important for the inevitable mid-afternoon slump.
- Room Service [24-hour]: If they don't have this, I'M OUT.
- Breakfast [Buffet]: I'M HERE FOR IT. I need Western breakfast and Asian breakfast. Also, Vegetarian restaurant. And Desserts in restaurant, because… well, because.
- Alternative meal arrangement, Breakfast takeaway service: Bonus points for flexibility!
- Bottle of water: It's hard to stay hydrated without it.
Now, my opinion on the food situation can determine whether I get a hotel's five start or two. This is where I'd really want to know if the buffet items are actually fresh, or have been sitting there for hours under heat lamps. Is the coffee drinkable? Are the staff friendly and attentive? Is breakfast actually worth waking up for?
Relaxation Station: Spa, Pool, and Other Goodness
This is where the "luxury" really gets to shine, or sink.
- Swimming Pool: A MUST. Pool with view? Even better. Swimming pool [outdoor] - YES!
- Spa: Massage, Sauna, Steamroom! All essential for me. I'm a sucker for a good Body scrub and Body wrap. It's like, "take away all my cares!"
- Fitness Center / Gym: Gotta work off all those buffet breakfasts!
Cleanliness and Safety - Because, Health!
In the post-pandemic world, this is HUGE. Let's see what they're promising:
- Anti-viral cleaning products - Good.
- Cashless payment service - Awesome.
- Daily disinfection in common areas - Essential.
- Hand sanitizer - You better believe it.
- Hygiene certification - This is what i'd need to see.
- Rooms sanitized between stays - Crucial.
- Safe dining setup - We'll see.
- Staff trained in safety protocol - This is another must.
My Take?
I'm looking for a safe haven, but at a price.
Services and Conveniences - The Little Things That Matter
- Concierge: A lifesaver. Someone to handle all the annoying stuff.
- Dry cleaning & Laundry service & Ironing service: Needed.
- Daily housekeeping: Thank GOODNESS. I need my room tidied.
- Elevator: Yes.
- Facilities for disabled guests: Good.
- Luggage storage: Crucial.
- Safety deposit boxes: ALWAYS use them.
For the Kids: Family Friendly or Nightmare Fuel?
- Babysitting service: Yes, please!
- Kids facilities: What are they? A play area? A pool?
- Kids meal: Essential.
Things to Do
- Meetings/Seminars/Meetings/Banquet Facilities - These are for corporate events or if you need to do some work while you're there.
- Shrine- If you travel for leisure, then this might entice you.
- Outdoor/Indoor Venue for special events - for weddings/parties
- Gifts/Souvenir Shop - This is nice if you want to buy something.
Security
- CCTV in common areas, CCTV outside property: Yes, please.
- Fire extinguisher, Fire alarms, Smoke alarms: Safety FIRST.
- Safe/security feature: Again, I'd want to see what this entails.
- Security [24-hour]: Peace of mind.
Now for the big question: Will I book this hotel?
The Verdict (and my Unfiltered Opinion!)
Based on the description alone, Manahan Stadium's BEST Hotel sounds promising. The views? Well, they better be worth it. The luxury aspects? A LOT is dependent on the execution.
Here's what I need to know before I book:
- Accessibility: I need specifics. Are the accessible rooms truly accessible, or just "sort of" accessible?
- Reviews: What are other people saying?
- Photos: Give me the REAL shots, not the airbrushed ones!
- Food Quality: Because let's be honest, a bad breakfast can ruin a whole day.
- The Vibe: Is it stuffy and pretentious, or relaxed and welcoming? Because I prefer the latter.
- The Price: Is it worth the luxury?
My Final Offer (and Call to Action!)
Manahan Stadium's BEST Hotel: Unbeatable Views & Luxury!
You deserve a getaway! Indulge in:
- Stunning views (that's the promise, anyway!)
- Rooms packed with all the comforts you crave.
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because this itinerary isn't your perfectly-coiffed travel brochure. This is real travel, folks. Hotel O Manahan, here we come (or maybe we already left? I'm still unpacking.)
The (Mostly) Unorganized Adventure at Hotel O Manahan, Solo - Formerly Atma Bhakti Surakarta (Indonesia, for the geographically challenged like myself… sometimes).
Day 1: Arrival & The Great Noodle Quest (Plus Existential Dread)
- 8:00 AM - 12:00 PM: The Treacherous Journey (and a Misplaced Enthusiasm). Flight from… well, let's just say it involved a very early start and a strong coffee. (Two, actually.) The whole airport experience is a blur of stressed faces, overpriced water bottles, and the constant, nagging feeling that you've forgotten something vital. Like, my passport. Nope, got that. My sanity? Jury’s still out. Land in Solo. Breathe. The humidity hits you like a warm, damp hug… if a hug could also induce a mild haze in your brain.
- 12:00 PM - 1:00 PM: Check-In Chaos & The (Very Likely) Wrong Room. Hotel O Manahan. Oooooh, fancy. Except the lobby smells suspiciously like… air freshener trying really hard. Check-in. The receptionist is lovely and patient, despite my utter lack of Indonesian. The room? Well, it looks like the picture. That's… something. Actually, the "city view" is best described as "the back of a building and a rusty water tank." Fine. It's a room, it has a bed, and I collapse. Time to recover, or maybe it's time for a nap.
- 1:00 PM - 3:00 PM: That Damn Noodle Quest. So, apparently, Solo is famous for its… noodles. And since I haven't eaten in 8 hours, I'm all in. After the concierge, bless him, recommended a place, I'm off, armed with Google Maps and a vague sense of adventure. After an hour and a half of walking, a mild argument with a particularly stubborn mosquito, and a near collision with a motorbike driver (who, by the way, gave me the most gentle 'are you alright?' look even after I had jumped in place), I finally arrive… at a closed noodle shop. Seriously? Did I just chase a ghost noodle factory? This is what I came for. Now I question all my life choices.
- 3:00 PM - 6:00 PM: The Cultural Dive I Didn't Plan For. After losing the noodle game, I took a bus and got off as soon as I saw a sign that made sense. The rest is history, and it's also very hot here. I eventually found a small market and soaked in the local energy. This is what you came for.
- 6:00 PM - 7:00 PM: Dinner (Finally!). The concierge at the hotel, who is clearly a saint, recommended a restaurant with something called "nasi liwet." Basically, rice cooked in a bunch of delicious stuff, probably with a side of deep joy and a shot of happiness. It was incredible. Mind blown. And I think… just think… I'm starting to get it. Solo, I mean.
- 7:00 PM - 9:00 PM: Unpacking and the Great Mosquito Massacre. Back at the glorious (and slightly disappointing, but in a charmingly run-down way) room. Unpacking. The mosquito situation is dire. I mean, dire. I'm armed with the spray. The war is on. This could get messy.
- 9:00 PM - Bedtime: Existential musings. Look, I'm tired. I'm also slightly overwhelmed by the sheer… everything of this place. Thoughts of my real life back home begin to surface. But I will deal tomorrow. For now, I want to stare out of the window and listen to something unfamiliar. I think it's the sound of the local street vendors. This is beautiful.
Day 2: Temples, Tears (Maybe), and Tempe.
- 7:00 AM - 8:00 AM: Breakfast and Brief Respite. The hotel breakfast is… functional. The coffee is strong, which is a blessing. I also see some local men watching a motorbike race, and their enthusiasm is contagious.
- 8:00 AM - 12:00 PM: Lost in the Ancient Glory. I'm off to the Candi Sukuh temple. I'm not sure how I get there, but it's something I have to see. This is the beauty of travel. The sheer unexpectedness. The journey is an adventure. After a long ride, the temple itself is breathtaking. It's ancient, it's beautiful, and it makes me want to cry. The sheer age of it. The human history contained within those stones. It's making me emotional.
- 12:00 PM - 1:00 PM: The Tempe Revelation. Lunch. I find a roadside stall. There it is. Tempe. Fried, crispy, delicious tempe, and it costs about 50 cents. I am in heaven. This is what life is all about. Right here.
- 1:00 PM - 4:00 PM: More Temple, More Tears. Maybe. The Candi Cetho. It's another temple. Possibly just as impressive. Probably just as emotional. I might cry again. I'll own it. Travel makes you soft, and I don't care. I've got my tissues ready.
- 4:00 PM - 6:00 PM: Back to the Hotel (And the Mosquitoes, Sadly). Taxi ride back to the glorious O Manahan. The traffic is… an experience. But now I would be ready for it. The chaos is beautiful.
- 6:00 PM - 7:00 PM: Dinner, and a Moment of Reflection. Finding another delicious restaurant. Solo has been surprising. A quiet hour. Thinking about everything. The world is bigger than I thought.
- 7:00 PM - Bedtime: The Mosquito War, Round 2. Sleep. Or try to.
Day 3: Stadium Manahan, and Departure Dread (or Not?)
- 8:00 AM - 9:00 AM: Last Breakfast and a Slight Panic. Same breakfast, but with a new kind of appreciation. Realizing I have to leave. A slight panic sets in.
- 9:00 AM - 11:00 AM: The Stadium and Goodbye. The Stadium Manahan. It's there. It's big. Farewell Solo. This place is beautiful, the people are more so.
- 11:00 AM - 12:00 PM: The Airport. Again. The journey back always leaves the feeling that it's going to be difficult.
- 12:00 PM - Flight Time: Back in the sky. Reflecting. What just happened?
- Post Script: I don't know if I'll be back. But I'll always remember the tempe, the noodles that weren't there, the temples, the traffic, the humidity, and the mosquitoes. And the feeling that, for three days, the world was a little bit bigger. And that's all I need…
Okay, so… *What* exactly are we even talking about here? Like, what's the *topic*?
Alright, alright, settle down with the existential dread. Fine. Let's pretend we're talking about… *drumroll*… **My disastrous attempt at making sourdough.** Yeah, the stuff that everyone and their gluten-intolerant dog seems to be baking lately. Honestly, I felt like a failure before I even preheated the oven.
Because, you know, what *isn't* a disaster for me?
Because, you know, what *isn't* a disaster for me?
Why sourdough? Why torture yourself?
Don't get me started! Blame Pinterest, blame the pandemic, blame the *sheer audacity* of my neighbor's perfect, crusty loaf. I felt… inadequate. Like, if I couldn't conquer a simple loaf of bread, what was the point of all this *gestures vaguely at life*?
So, I dove in. Headfirst. Into a bubbling, yeasty abyss. It was a mistake. Mostly. Actually, entirely.
I mean, have you *seen* the time commitment?! Feeding a starter is like having a needy, gluten-obsessed pet.
So, I dove in. Headfirst. Into a bubbling, yeasty abyss. It was a mistake. Mostly. Actually, entirely.
I mean, have you *seen* the time commitment?! Feeding a starter is like having a needy, gluten-obsessed pet.
The starter... The dreaded starter! What was *that* experience like?
Oh, the starter. My precious, putrid, bubbling... thing. I named it "Gloop." Because, let's face it, it looked like green, slightly-fermented swamp water. And smelled kinda the same.
The internet told me to feed it regularly. Which meant mixing flour and water every day. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes I forgot. Gloop would sulk. The smell would intensify. My kitchen would begin to *hate* me. It was a vicious cycle.
I swear, one day, Gloop almost escaped. I found the jar *on the counter!* I swear it was plotting something. Probably world domination… through artisanal gluten.
The internet told me to feed it regularly. Which meant mixing flour and water every day. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes I forgot. Gloop would sulk. The smell would intensify. My kitchen would begin to *hate* me. It was a vicious cycle.
I swear, one day, Gloop almost escaped. I found the jar *on the counter!* I swear it was plotting something. Probably world domination… through artisanal gluten.
Okay, okay, so the starter was a nightmare. What *about* the actual bread-making process? The baking?
You know how they say, "Rome wasn't built in a day?" Yeah. Neither was my sourdough. Or, at least, the good kind.
My first attempt… disaster. It resembled a hockey puck. A *very* dense, very *unappetizing* hockey puck. I actually think I could've used it to break a window. The crust was like concrete, the inside was… well, it wasn't inside much. It was just… dense.
I tried again. And again. Followed every single recipe. Watched a *million* YouTube videos. Got all the special tools. Dutch oven, lame, the works. Nothing. Flat loaves, undercooked loaves, loaves that rose so dramatically they seemed to be mocking me.
The worst part? The smell. The incredible, tantalizing smell that filled my kitchen *just before* it all went wrong. The anticipation… the crushing disappointment. It was worse than a bad date. Way worse. At least *they* eventually left.
My first attempt… disaster. It resembled a hockey puck. A *very* dense, very *unappetizing* hockey puck. I actually think I could've used it to break a window. The crust was like concrete, the inside was… well, it wasn't inside much. It was just… dense.
I tried again. And again. Followed every single recipe. Watched a *million* YouTube videos. Got all the special tools. Dutch oven, lame, the works. Nothing. Flat loaves, undercooked loaves, loaves that rose so dramatically they seemed to be mocking me.
The worst part? The smell. The incredible, tantalizing smell that filled my kitchen *just before* it all went wrong. The anticipation… the crushing disappointment. It was worse than a bad date. Way worse. At least *they* eventually left.
Did you… did you ever succeed? The burning question! Did you get a good loaf?
… Okay, here's the brutal truth: Yes. Once. Sort of. It wasn't *perfect*, by any stretch of the imagination. But it was… edible. It had a slight tang, a tiny bit of crust, and… you know what? It tasted like... bread.
I was so proud. I took a picture and slapped it on Instagram to show my success. Then I ate the entire thing in about fifteen minutes. (Don't judge me. I was starving from all the failed attempts.)
I haven't made it since.
I was so proud. I took a picture and slapped it on Instagram to show my success. Then I ate the entire thing in about fifteen minutes. (Don't judge me. I was starving from all the failed attempts.)
I haven't made it since.
Any tips for other hapless sourdough dreamers? Anything to learn from your... journey?
* **Lower your expectations drastically.** Seriously. Go in expecting failure. That way, anything resembling bread will be a win.
* **Don't name your starter.** Trust me. It just makes the inevitable heartbreak even worse.
* **Be prepared to spend a lot of time.** And by "a lot," I mean… well, it's a rabbit hole.
* **Invest in a good Dutch oven.** (I did. It helped… *slightly*).
* **And most importantly:** If it all goes south… just buy a loaf from the bakery. Seriously. Your mental health will thank you. Maybe mine should have.
* **Don't name your starter.** Trust me. It just makes the inevitable heartbreak even worse.
* **Be prepared to spend a lot of time.** And by "a lot," I mean… well, it's a rabbit hole.
* **Invest in a good Dutch oven.** (I did. It helped… *slightly*).
* **And most importantly:** If it all goes south… just buy a loaf from the bakery. Seriously. Your mental health will thank you. Maybe mine should have.
So... what's next on your quest for culinary dominance?
Honestly? Probably a microwaved Hot Pocket. I'm thinking I'll stick to things where I can't accidentally unleash a sentient blob on the world. Unless... maybe making a *really* good cup of instant coffee is the next challenge? Stay tuned to find out. Or, you know, don't. I'm not your boss.
