Walk in, and you know exactly what you’re getting: the beige walls, the modular desk, the toiletries that smell faintly of lemongrass and regret. But I’m telling you, there’s a reason this formula works. The bed was surprisingly comfortable—firm enough to support my bad back, soft enough to send me to dreamland within five minutes.
The Wi-Fi was free and actually functional, which is more than I can say for some boutique hotels that charge you £15 for “premium” speeds. I streamed a movie without a single buffer. That’s a modern miracle, my friend.
Holiday Inn Express London - Dartford, an IHG Hotel in Dartford | Best
The Breakfast: A Surprisingly Emotional Moment
At 6:30 a.m., I stumbled into the dining area, expecting the usual sad buffet of rubber eggs. Instead, I met Pam. Pam was the breakfast attendant, and she moved through the room like a hurricane of kindness. She refilled the pancake machine—yes, pancake machine—and asked if I’d tried the sausage rolls.
“They’re homemade, not from a box,” she whispered, winking. And she was right. That sausage roll was the best thing I ate all week. It had flaky pastry, real meat, and a hint of mustard. I ate three. No shame.
The rest of the spread is standard Holiday Inn Express: scrambled eggs, yogurt, cereal, and that strange “Turbo” hot drink machine. But Pam’s energy made it feel like a diner in a sitcom—the kind where everyone knows your name. (Though they absolutely didn’t know mine. I was just the bleary-eyed guy with three sausage rolls.)
