Alexandria Hotel in Thessaloniki

The hotel is very bad, and when you cancel your stay because the hotel is bad, you don't get your money back. And then you're accused of blackmail. Do you know what blackmail is, sir/madam? It's like this: I'll come to your hotel, eat and drink, and then say, "If you don't refund my money, I'll write a bad review about you." But I'm not doing that. I didn't like the hotel and didn't stay there, but my money isn't being refunded. This isn't blackmail, it's the truth. I don't even need to tell you why; if I didn't like it, I didn't like it. Why are you so insistent on not refunding the money for a service you didn't provide? You called me a blackmailer; are you perhaps a con artist?

The hotel is squalid, poorly furnished, and reeks. In some rooms you can smell sewage backflow, making the experience a nightmare. The bathroom is far too small, the drain makes ominous noises, and the staff do not clean the room every day. It was clear that one of the receptionists had just taken substances, though at least he was courteous afterward. The electrical outlets had loose fittings coming off the wall, and there are no drawers in the furniture.

From the staff’s expressions, it was obvious they were aware of the filth and the low standard of the hotel’s management: they appeared polite, only to then let us sleep in a situation that was nothing short of utterly degrading. The bathroom had no windows or even skylights to allow the air to clear; instead, it remained putrid, as if we were inside a sewer system in Thessaloniki. Chipped baseboards, taps where the water ran opposite to the hot and cold markings in red and blue.

The breakfast we didn’t finish was left there, perhaps as an “altruistic” gesture, even after the so-called “cleaning time,” which we discovered was not actually such, given the stains scattered across both mattresses.

The small balcony is, to put it mildly, a miserable cubbyhole in which to feel depressed; there is no proper place to gather or relax. Staying in this stench means pain for the soul.

As if that weren’t enough, the curtain does not serve its purpose: from the first rays of sunlight (6:00 a.m.), you are woken as if you were sleeping out on the street just a few meters below.

Finally, the area is extremely rough—more to be feared than visited.

Last but not least, the doors are made of wood that seems to have started rotting around the time the Soviet Union fell, which is probably also when that wreck of a refrigerator dates back to.

It is strongly advised to avoid this place.

The hotel didn’t have the minimum facilities. In 2025 and we didn’t have water in the room . Unfortunately, my experience was not as expected. The lack of cleanliness made me feel uneasy during my stay. Overall, I expected more for the price I paid, and I wouldn’t stay here again unless the management addresses these issueS