Stayed at Melia Orlando recently and… oof. Where do I begin?
Let’s start with the front desk. The energy? Cold. The vibe? Off. The hospitality? Nonexistent. The older woman working during our check-in was so dismissive, it honestly felt like we were bothering her just by existing. And this wasn’t a “maybe I’m just sensitive” thing—three separate adults in our group picked up on it without comparing notes. The way we were treated left us feeling like outsiders, and yeah, that’s not a good look in the hospitality industry.
Then there was the food. We thought we were grabbing a casual meal at the hotel restaurant. Instead, we waited forever for what can only be described as a middle school art project disguised as pizza. My husband’s Margherita pizza looked like a cry for help, and he’s not even picky—he’s frugal. Like, “brings coupons to Costco” frugal. And he said he’d rather pay more next time and stay somewhere better. That says a lot.
The hotel itself was clean, and it felt relatively safe, which I do appreciate. But the resort fees? Whew. Nothing like getting financially jump-scared at checkout. It’s the classic “Here’s the price! Just kidding, gotcha B!” move.
Overall, I really wanted to love this place. I booked it thinking I was doing the “budget-friendly but still nice” thing. Instead, I left feeling like I paid premium prices for Dollar Tree energy.