The Daima Biz consists of a number of buildings designed to evoke the magic, exoticism and escapism of the big cruise liners. The design and execution is quite effective; if the cruise ship the Hotelier had in mind was a cross between a gay and lesbian Mardi Gras cruise and a prison hulk.
The entire set up has been the victim of a nauseous giant fairy who has vomited gold glitter on every conceivable surface. Anywhere the fairy failed to reach has been visited with the grim hand of the angel Bright Turquoise who has splattered her namesake hue with abandon. The hotel staff have been the primary victims of the angel, your dished will be taken away by a depressed waiter dressed in a boy’s sailor costume consisting entirely of that off putting colour and white piping. The maintenance men are also subjected to this offensive garb and attempt to reassert their masculinity by strutting around with power tools in hand. Their sparkly turquoise sailor suits detract from their attempts.
The foyer expands on the theme and in what I assume is an attempt to make the many Russian holiday makers feel at home, the entirety of the foyer is bedecked in faux pre-revolutionary style sofas and side tables and mirrors and various other knick knacks – all in the obligatory bright turquoise and gold.
The russian theme continues in the dining room (being a package holiday destination your breakfast and dinner is included even if you strenuously stress that you have no desire to eat the food and are troubled by the fact that you need to pay an additional 30 god damn euros to stay in the same room as your husband – seriously, do they only wash one side of the sheets when there is one person?). Ahem, the dining room. Despite the mountains of fairly appetising food and (you guessed it) turquoise and gold furnishings, the dining room somehow manages to evoke the charm, ambiance and warmth of a gulag. Perhaps it is the sheer size of the room (better termed ‘hall’) or the grim determination of the inhabitants to devour every last speck of food available. Although, unlike my understanding of actual gulags, these inmates were in no danger of imminent death by starvation. The chairs were however in imminent danger of collapse.
The Russo-Turkish relationship continued in the rooms which featured siberian style water heating (as in, none). There was also an interesting tendency on behalf of the bath to seep significant quantities of water onto the bathroom floor.
The pool was certainly the highlight of the hotel. In all seriousness it was absolutely lovely – a 40(?)metre outdoor lap pool with a background of snow capped mountains (once you looked beyond the further cruise ship buildings). It also featured sub arctic temperatures – the Russians sipped cocktails and laughed at me as I, alone and foolishly, jumped in the water. I enjoyed having the pool all to myself and I am quite certain that I set some kind of personal lap record before the burning sensation on my face and feet convinced me to exit at rapidly as I had entered. It was very nice. Given the capacity of the hotel I do however imagine that the pool would be chock full of screaming children and drunken holiday makers in peak season.
In summary, unless it was the only place on earth to be spared in a nuclear winter, I will never consider staying at the Daima Biz Otel ever again. It was soulless, expensive and the glitter made my eyes itch.