Ibis Lincoln - Somewhere Between a Bunker and a Time Capsule

If you like your hotels with character, mystery stains, and a lingering sense of doom — Ibis Lincoln might just be your dream/nightmare destination.

If you like your hotels with character, mystery stains, and a lingering sense of doom — congratulations, you’ve found the holy grail.

The building itself looks like it emotionally checked out in 2003. Rumour has it the place is closing down soon, and frankly, that would be a mercy. Burn it to the ground, hold a tasteful vigil, and let it go. Like a Viking funeral, but for 3-star corporate misery.

The Location? Surprisingly okay. It’s near the A1, which means you can flee with relative ease.

The Lift? Oh dear God. I’ve encountered more stable things at Jenga tournaments. It creaked, groaned, and lurched like it was carrying the weight of its sins. It moved with all the urgency of a sedated sloth and made sounds like someone was trying to exorcise it. I had a full existential crisis between floors.

The Room? Time warp. Fully committed to the 90s.

• The carpet looked haunted.

• The furniture was doing a flawless impression of "dated IKEA catalogue."

• There was a 56k modem port on the desk — an artifact for historians.

• I half expected to find a Blockbuster card or a floppy disk labeled "Y2K Plan."

The Staff? Somewhere between confused, helpful, and possibly part of an improv troupe. They had that energy of people who maybe didn’t work there but couldn’t find the exit.

Overall Vibe? Less "accommodation" and more "sociological experiment." If this hotel were a person, it would be wearing Crocs, muttering about dial-up, and still using Windows XP.

Would I stay again?Only if I lost a bet, or someone bribed me with a lifetime supply of kettle chips.

Final Verdict: A glorious dive into nostalgia, chaos, and oddly specific stains.

1.5 out of 5 — and that’s being generous.