ibis Styles Birmingham NEC – Cold Rooms, Bruised Fruit & Pod Point Deceit

Apple bitten. Guinness gripped. Regret fully checked in.

Welcome to ibis Styles Birmingham NEC and Airport – where “style” is mentioned often, but never demonstrated. This hotel promises quirky décor, vibrant energy, and prime location near Birmingham Airport and NEC. In reality? It delivers apples with abandonment issues, bin-laden corridors, and a loyalty program you’ll need to mime to activate.

This is the kind of hotel that makes you question your life choices. Or at least your travel bookings.

🚗 Arrival – Motorsport, But Sad

I rolled into the car park with optimism. Big mistake. No spaces. Just vibes and a single smug seagull on the last available bay. After a few pitiful laps, I found salvation in the electric car charging bays. My car isn’t electric, but that never stopped anyone brave.

I downloaded the Pod Point app, saw the 90p/kWh price, laughed out loud, and shoved the cable in without actually charging. Free moral grey area parking achieved!

“Sustainability… bluffed successfully.”

🛎️ Check-In – The Loyalty Labyrinth

Reception featured one man, zero upgrades. Despite my loyalty status, I was given the standard room until I started gesturing wildly at the enormous sign promoting ALL Accor membership behind him. After a solid minute of interpretive dance, he finally relented and upgraded me.

“Apparently staff can’t see this unless you mime at it.”

💸 Parking – £15 of Pure Disrespect

Then he hit me with a £15 parking charge, just to ruin my win. Fifteen pounds. For parking. After I pretended to own a Tesla. I think this is what defeat tastes like.

🛗 The Lift – A Rare Delight

An OTIS GEN2. Born in 2008 and still the most modern thing here. It played music. It told me the weather. It had a screen. Honestly, I felt more understood by the lift than the front desk.

“Up-to-date weather and emotional support.”

🧳 Corridors – Housekeeping Apocalypse

5pm. Bin bags lining the hallway. Trolleys of doom. Abandoned linen. It looked like a student move-out day collided with a ghost hunt. I passed an ironing board on wheels and briefly wondered if it was lost too.

“Nothing says welcome like bin liners and despair.”

🥶 Room – Cryogenic Chic

The room greeted me like a blast freezer. The air con was set to 20°C, but my nipples said otherwise. Decor was… white. Cold. Empty. I’ve seen IKEA displays with more personality.

🛏️ Bed – The Great Mattress Divorce

Two single beds pushed together to pretend they’re a double. I’ve had more romantic cohesion in an arranged blind date. Drifted apart mid-sleep like emotionally unavailable housemates.

🎨 Decor – You Rock My Boat, Sailor

Tucked quietly along the wall like a confused tattoo was the phrase: “You Rock My Boat, Sailor.” A bold, nautical declaration in a landlocked hotel corridor. Who was it for? Airline crews? Wandering pirates? Or just emotionally shipwrecked guests like me?

It was unreadable from more than a metre away and didn’t match any known decor theme, but it tried. Like everything else here, it gave its best — and failed gloriously.

“For when you want cruise ship optimism in an airport hotel.”

🛋️ Bonus Bed – Prepare for Company

Then I saw it. A fully made-up sofa bed. I booked solo, so this raised questions. Was someone else joining? Was this actually a hostel with extra steps? I checked the door twice just to confirm this was my own private misery.

“Ready for guests I never invited.”

🚪 Storage – Open Plan Misery

No wardrobe. No drawers. Just an ironing board hanging on the wall like modern art. USB by the bed? Of course not. I dragged my 2-metre cable like a Victorian child hauling coal.

☕ Tea & Coffee – Austerity Edition

Standard kettle. A few sachets. No biscuits. No joy. The kettle was surprisingly clean, which felt emotionally manipulative.

“A clean kettle in a sea of sorrow.”

🚿 Bathroom – Static Caravan Simulator

It’s white. It’s plastic. The glass sink is chipped like it lost a bar fight. The only toiletry is a 3-in-1 bottle of “PRESS TO IMPRESS” which boldly offers shampoo, body wash and possibly radiator coolant all in one squirt.

“Soap that screams ‘good luck’.”

🍏 Complimentary Fruit – The Hunger Games

A hydration station with four bruised apples that looked like they’d been emotionally bullied. One had bite marks. The rest just looked done with life.

“These have seen things.”

🍻 Bar – GCSE Canteen With Guinness

White plastic tables. Basic chairs. The vibe? Prison visitation day. But here’s the twist — Guinness, on tap, in a real Guinness glass. I shed a single tear. One of the rare Hall of Fame pours — proudly ranked in The Great Guinness Glass Audit.

“Minimalism or leftover exam hall?”

📶 WiFi – The Unsung Hero

No password. Just instant, glorious connection. Speeds of 62mbps down / 72mbps up. The strongest performance of the night.

“Speed fast enough to Google ‘nearest exit’.”

😴Sleep – You Rock My Boat (Literally)

Skipped dinner, had one Guinness (right glass, small win) and headed to bed—big mistake. Behind the wall, a waste pipe gurgled loudly all night, making me feel like I was sleeping below deck on a leaking boat. Suddenly, the “You Rock My Boat, Sailor” mural made perfect sense—it spent the night watching me toss and turn, probably laughing. Add guests loudly departing at every airport-bound hour, and sleep was impossible. 0/10, would abandon ship.

She rocked my boat… then the plumbing finished the job.

🧐 Final Thoughts – “Stylish” in the Way Ryanair is Luxurious

This was the upgraded room. The “better” version. If I’d seen the standard one, I might have slept in the lift.

It was cold. It was chaotic. It was cluttered with linen, guilt, and fruit with abandonment issues.

And no — there was no mint on my pillow. Just the faint scent of confusion.

🌟 Rating: 🛏️🛏️½ out of 5

I came looking for colour and style. I got bruised apples, chipped sinks, and a loyalty sign that screamed into the void. Curious how this hotel stacks up against the rest?

 👉 See the full Accor-ometer: Beds, Beers & Bad Decisions