Usuario invitado
31 de enero de 2026
Last year, three days before Christmas, on a grey Sunday afternoon, my car broke down near Emmerich. My two children (8 and 11) and I were on our way from Amsterdam to southern Germany, to my hometown, to visit Grandma and the rest of our family. We had all had very busy weeks and were tired—but happy and excited. Stranded in Emmerich, we looked for a place to stay and rang the bell at this hotel, even though the door was closed. A young man opened, clearly surprised. I must have looked rather desperate, because after only a short moment he invited us in. I believe he said something like, “We’re not actually open, but…” All I really heard was: yes. He told us he would quickly freshen up a room for us. On the way, I noticed the sign of the hotel’s own restaurant, “Split.” The name immediately touched me—my love for food and cooking comes from time spent near Split, on the beautiful Croatian coast, where I have wonderful childhood memories. Unfortunately, he explained that the restaurant was also closed. As we walked to our room, we passed the dining area, which was clearly in the middle of a serious renovation. He apologized sincerely for the dust and noise, though they were just about to finish work for the day. We were less lucky with our restaurant choice elsewhere that evening, but that hardly mattered. Back at the hotel, we had a lovely, relaxed evening in our clean, modern, and comfortable room—watching TV, laughing, and simply being together. Only afterward did I fully realize that the hotel was actually completely closed for renovations—and that they just took us in anyway. Thank you for being our sanctuary that day. This is what guest housing should be. I am very much looking forward to returning one day—with love, and perhaps even planning a stopover just to eat at your restaurant.
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