Ah, the breakfast buffet. You wake up with a “well, that was a good night” feeling, and you shuffle downstairs. The smell of bacon, the sizzle of sausages, the industrial-grade beans—it’s a hymn to overindulgence. You tell yourself you’ll just have a light bite. Then you see the hash browns staring at you like little golden potatoes of temptation.
The cooked breakfast is predictably solid. The bacon is not too crispy, the eggs are either scrambled or fried, and the toast machine is a personal challenge. You’ll burn your fingers, drop a slice, and then carefully pick it up when no one is looking. It’s a rite of passage. I always pile my plate so high it looks like a Jenga tower of cholesterol.
And don’t skip the continental bit, even if you’re British. Those little packets of butter? They’re the unsung heroes. You spread one on a croissant, and for a moment, you feel like you’re in a French patisserie, not a chain hotel in the Midlands. Bonus tip: grab a banana for the road. It’s socially acceptable to pocket one. The staff knows.
Premier Inn Birmingham Broad St Canal Side | , West Midlands B1 2JR
The Staff: Your Friendly, Slightly Tired Neighbour
The people who work here are great. They have that professional smile that says, “I’ve seen it all, but I’m still happy to help.” They won’t judge you if you ask for a third pillow or if you stagger in at 2 AM smelling like a brewery. They’ll just hand you a key card and say, “Second floor, room 216. Night-night.”
One time, I forgot my toothbrush. The receptionist didn’t roll her eyes. She reached under the counter and pulled out a little plastic pack with a smile. It felt like a small miracle. That’s the Premier Inn secret: they’ve outsourced all the anxiety so you don’t have to worry.
