Novotel Coventry – The Kettle from Hell (and Other Nightmares)

Nigel Slippers
Aug 3, 2025
5 min read

Updated: Sep 7, 2025

Novotel Coventry – where the kettles are haunted, the Guinness is Becks, and the hope is optional.

🏨 What the Hotel Says – Spacious Rooms, Moments That Matter, and Some Creative Writing

Located just off the majestic concrete slipstream of the M6 and within “walking distance” of the Coventry Building Society Arena (bring oxygen and a spare knee), Novotel Coventry M6/J3 proudly offers “modern comforts,” “spacious rooms,” and “moments that matter.”

(They don’t specify what kind of moments — but based on my stay, I’d suggest “hair discovery,” “kettle avoidance,” and “voucher-based despair,” much like my other loyalty reward moments at Mercure Telford Centre and Mercure Bradford Bankfield). 🚗 Welcome to the Coventry Surveillance & Hospitality Centre

Ah yes, the soothing welcome of a ParkingEye machine. You’re not greeted with a smile or complimentary prosecco, but a touchscreen terminal demanding your registration like you’re about to reverse into the Crown Jewels. I keyed in my plate with the enthusiasm of a man signing his own arrest warrant. (Different hotel, same parking paranoia — see ibis Styles Birmingham NEC for the laminated-sign equivalent.)

*Don’t worry. The only thing watching you here is every camera in Coventry.*

🛎️ Reception: Accor Membership Denied Gently

The receptionist was friendly, cheerful and helpful — the holy trinity of surface hospitality. But when I enquired (with hope in my eyes) whether my Accor membership upgrade had come through, he smiled as if I’d asked if unicorn parking was available. My keycard was already printed.Translation: not a chance, champ.

Still, I did receive my free welcome drink voucher, issued via the app. A glimmer of joy — quickly extinguished at the bar, as happens far too often (see Novotel Newcastle Airport for a rave-children-filled version).

🧗‍♂️ Where’s the Lift? Who Cares. I Have Legs and Trauma.

Couldn’t find the lift. Maybe it’s invisible. Maybe it was never built. Maybe it fled the premises. But given my past trauma with lifts in budget hotels, I was more than happy to take the stairs.

What awaited me was shockingly modern — a bright corridor with fancy doors that briefly tricked me into believing I was in a decent hotel.

*Welcome to the best part of the hotel. It’s downhill from here. Literally.*

🛏️ Bed and Desk: A Flicker of Hope in the Hotel Abyss

I opened the door, braced for trauma… and was momentarily impressed.An actual double bed. Not two reluctant singles forced into a bitter relationship, but a real, honest-to-goodness double. I nearly called the Vatican.

The desk was excellent — loads of sockets, a solid work surface, and even an HDMI port to connect a laptop. A working space, in a Novotel? I fainted briefly.

📺 TV: A Flat Panel of Betrayal

The 42” TV looked the part. Big, sleek, positioned perfectly for horizontal viewing. Unfortunately, the Freeview channels barely worked. Glitchy, frozen, or stuck in another timeline. At one point it displayed “No Signal” with the stubbornness of a fax machine in a thunderstorm.

If you want to actually watch something, bring your own HDMI cable, prayer beads, and low expectations.

🔥 The Kettle That’s Probably Illegal in 14 Countries

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Kettle From Hell™.Its interior resembled the remains of a burnt-out toaster. Ashy. Crumb-coated. Possibly radioactive. I considered alerting the fire service.

And no coffee machine. Just instant sachets, a pair of limp paper cups, and no biscuits. Even the Travelodge would blush (though not quite ibis Budget Newport levels of in-room sadness — see here).

*Hell’s pet teapot. May cause existential crisis if used.*

🧊 Mini-Fridge: Cold, But Empty Like My Soul

The mini-fridge was working, technically. It was cold. Very cold.What it lacked was content. Not a single bottle of water. Not even a lonely milk carton. Just the Arctic tundra and my growing sense of abandonment.

*Chills your drinks … and your last hopes.*

🚽 Toilet Tetris & Ritual Touches

Novotel’s usual split bathroom design was alive and well — a toilet in one room, the sink in the other. No chance to wash your hands in the same room you’ve just been to the loo.The toilet cubicle was so narrow I had to enter sideways, like a burglar sneaking into a cupboard.

Inside the bathroom:

A powerful but questionable shower
Showerhead with bonus guest hair
A dusty, furry extractor fan that looked like it had been absorbing sin since 2006

The only touch of class? The Rituals toiletries, whispering “You deserve better, but we both know you’ll be back” (as seen in slightly grander surrounds at Mercure York Fairfield Manor).

*Performs exfoliation plus stranger DNA sampling.*

🍺 Bar: Late-Night Drink or Therapy Session?

Voucher in hand, I arrived at the bar — ready for my one free indulgence.“Guinness, please.”

The barman blinked. “You sure? It’s a bit late. You won’t sleep well.”

Sir, I’ve just had a stare-off with a haunted kettle and flossed with someone else’s hair in the shower. Give. Me. The Guinness.

He finally produced a tin of Guinness, served in a Becks-branded glass. A hate crime in three jurisdictions, and now proudly displayed in The Great Guinness Glass Audit. To top it off, the barman then began what I can only describe as interpretive TikTok — or he was fighting off a fly. Unclear. Unsettling.

📡 Wi‑Fi That Loves Mobile Data

Laptop wouldn’t connect. Not to anything. Not to the hotel Wi‑Fi. Not to the spirit realm.So I tethered my mobile, cursed softly, and uploaded footage of the kettle to my therapist.

🚻 Bar Toilet: Smellscape and Time Travel

The bar toilets smelled deeply wrong. Something between damp carpet, lost hope, and a collapsed mushroom farm.

Inside, I discovered a condom machine that advertised proudly it took old and new £1 coins.Fun fact: the UK stopped using the old round £1 coin in October 2017. So either this machine is a relic, or there’s an underground museum operating in the men’s loo.

*Vintage machine: now accepting currency from this millennium*

🎮 Children’s Games Table: The Only Real Competition

Alone and emotionally broken, I wandered over to the children’s games table and attempted to play Connect Four against myself. I lost. (*Innocence also died here, much like in the lobby of ibis Styles Birmingham NEC where optimism goes to die.)

😴 Sleep: A Rare Victory

Here’s the plot twist: I slept well. Room faced the back. Quiet. Still.No M6 symphony. No kids. Just silence and the vague whisper of the Sleep Guide book provided on the nightstand.

📘 Nigel’s Sleep Tip: Shred the guide. Unplug the haunted kettle. Pour your Guinness. Accept your fate.

🍳 Breakfast Boycott: Survival Decision

Having read enough reviews describing the breakfast as “the cause of my slow emotional breakdown,” I made a rare intelligent decision and skipped it.

No dried-out eggs. No coffee machine failure. No chasing a staff member for a teaspoon.Just a peaceful morning. Hungry, but peaceful.

Skipped breakfast. No dried eggs. No teaspoon hunts. Just me, my hunger, and the wind whispering, ‘You did the right thing.

🧐 Final Thoughts – Haunted Kettles, Coin-Op Condoms, and the Becks Glass Betrayal

So what happened?

I survived the ParkingEye gauntlet. Was handed a tin of Guinness with nutritional advice. Stared into a kettle possessed by the ghost of burnt toast. Wandered corridors so modern they gaslit me. Got judged by a barman doing interpretive dance. Played Connect Four against myself — and lost. And learned that some condom machines outlive monarchs and monetary policy.