Perhaps the Admiral Fell Inn’s greatest claim to fame is the supposed ghosts that reside within its walls. There were no ghosts to be found during my stay, and I can’t say that I blame them; even if I were dead, I’m not so sure I would want to hang around there either. While the Inn itself is beautifully steeped in an old-fashioned, unassuming charm, from its dimly lit, Federal-style lobby to its sprawling red-carpeted corridors that would make Stephen King drool with envy, the rooms themselves are products of age and what can only be constituted as human neglect.
Upon entering the room, my husband and I were assaulted by the overwhelming scent of mustiness, reminiscent of a dank basement. It wasn’t hard to see why. The air vents were literally caked in solidified layers of dust and grime, the ceiling was marred by signs of water damage, and the shower was a ghastly display of mold and mildew. Allergy suffers beware: if you are staying here, come prepared with an arsenal of decongestants.
I take pleasure in the simple things in life, like long, hot showers during my vacation. So you can imagine my utter horror when I see that the very shower/tub that I am supposed to be enjoying is grossly stained and spotted with the browns and reds of mildew, with the occasional random hair strewn about (do ghosts shed? I don’t think so). Now, part of the appeal at staying at the Admiral Fell Inn was so that I could fall in love with the charisma and uniqueness of someplace historically charming, instead of staying at your run-of-the-mill, sterile hotel chain. However, after one look at the shower, I wanted to run into the awaiting arms of the local Marriott or Holiday Inn, because at least there I would have been practically guaranteed a hot shower that wouldn’t involve a hazmat suite.
I had hoped that a good night’s sleep would help turn my frown upside down, though I worried that my night would be plagued by nightmares about killer mold spores. I never got the chance to find out. Sleep was sparse because of conversational neighbors congregating in the hallway all hours of the night, and though they weren’t especially loud, the walls are so paper-thin that they might as well have been carrying on their conversations beside my bed. I was even awakened by the sound of a woman’s cackling laughter a few doors down. A crazy ghost, maybe? My money’s on an obnoxious drunk in need of attention.
You can imagine how hard it is to enjoy Fells Point/Inner Harbor on just a few hours sleep. The one saving grace of the Inn, however, is the location. Everything you could want is at your fingertips, be it good food and drinks, quaint shops, or in my case, water-taxis (I was sleep deprived, so walking everywhere would have been a dangerous to my person). The proximity of all the tourist attractions was definitely a plus, and though tired, I enjoyed all of the sights and sounds of the area and the people. Another saving grace? The staff at the Inn were exceptionally sweet and personable and always willing to make you smile. Even if they were oblivious to the state of the rooms they represent, they were a pleasure to work with.
We were informed, upon leaving after a night’s stay, that the Inn was undergoing some updating. I hope this wasn’t just a line. The Inn has so much potential to be a historical and pleasant place to stay. With a little work, it could easily be polished into the shining gem of Fells Point. All it would take would be some hard work, a little creativity, and a lot of Tilex.
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