Sheraton St. Paul Woodbury: Your Dream Woodbury Getaway Awaits!
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because we're diving headfirst into the rabbit hole of this hotel. Let’s call it… The Grand Gizmo. No specific hotel name here, because, honestly, that's not the point. The point is the experience. And boy, did I have one.
SEO & Metadata Shenanigans (because the algorithm demands it):
- Keywords: Hotel Review, Accessibility, Luxury Hotel, Spa, Restaurant, Wi-Fi, Family Friendly, COVID-19 Safety, Features & Amenities, Reviews, Vacation, Travel.
- Meta Description: My unfiltered, messy, and honest review of The Grand Gizmo! Discover my experience with accessibility, dining, spa treatments, Wi-Fi, and the all-important COVID-19 protocols. Find out if it's worth your hard-earned cash (hint: maybe!). Prepare for a rollercoaster of opinions!
Accessibility: The Grand Entrance (or Lack Thereof…)
Right, so let's start with the big one: Accessibility. They claim to be accessible. And technically, maybe. See, I’m good until I realized the ramp had a slope that’d make a mountain goat whimper. The automatic doors were, well, sometimes automatic. Other times, you’d be wrestling with them like a toddler refusing a nap. Wheelchair access to the pool? Theoretically. Actually getting to the pool from some rooms? Let’s just say it involved a detour through what appeared to be the service entrance and a near-miss with a very grumpy-looking groundskeeper. Grade: C- (Must Do Better!) This is where I started to question the "Grand" part.
(Rant Alert!) I’m not even disabled, but watching a woman struggle with a walker on that ridiculous ramp… It made my blood boil! It's 2024! It's the bare minimum, right?
On-Site Restaurants & Lounges: Fuel for the Soul (and Belly)
The good news: lots of options. The better news: I got to eat… a lot. Restaurants, plural. Lounges, ditto. But, like, did I enjoy it?
- Accessible Restaurants/Lounges: Again, the "accessible" thing was a bit of a gamble. Some tables were clearly not designed with wheelchair users in mind. And, the lighting was so dim in one lounge that I nearly walked into a potted palm tree. Twice.
- Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: My Personal Food Odyssey
- A la Carte: Standard, good, reliable.
- Alternative Meal Arrangement: Not sure what this is, but I’m curious – a whole gluten-free vegan menu or a pre-set plate of something to go?
- Asian Breakfast & Cuisine: Delicious. The only reason I got out of bed some mornings. The pho? Sublime.
- Bar: Sloping down after a long day? Perfect.
- Bottle of Water: Yes. Gratitude.
- Breakfast [Buffet]: The buffet, oh lord, the buffet. So. Much. Food. I saw a guy load up three plates with bacon. Three!
- Breakfast Service: Fine, nothing exceptional, but functional.
- Coffee/Tea, Coffee Shop: Decent coffee, nothing to write home about. But hey, caffeine.
- Desserts: The dessert selection was, frankly, dangerous. Cheesecake. Chocolate mousse. Tiramisu. I'm not sure how many calories I consumed, and I'm afraid to look.
- Happy Hour: Booze on tap. What's not to love?
- International & Western Cuisine: Fine and dandy.
- Poolside Bar: Bliss. Sipping a margarita while looking at the pool. Yes, please.
- Restaurants: A lot.
- Room Service [24-hour]: Savior of late-night hunger pangs. The burger was surprisingly good.
- Salad, Soup: The things I told myself I was eating.
- Snack Bar: Convenient, if a little pricey.
- Vegetarian: Options were available.
- Western Breakfast: Eggs, bacon, the works.
Cleanliness and Safety: Is it Safe to Breathe?
Look, after the last few years, this is paramount. Did The Grand Gizmo deliver? Well…
- Anti-viral cleaning products: Check. I hope so.
- Breakfast in room: Never utilized this service.
- Cashless payment service: Thank heavens.
- Daily disinfection in common areas: Seemed to be happening.
- Doctor/nurse on call: Good to know.
- First aid kit: Should be standard, right?
- Hand sanitizer: Everywhere!
- Hot water linen and laundry washing: I pray so.
- Hygiene certification: I didn't see any.
- Individually-wrapped food options: Smart.
- Physical distancing: Mostly observed, depending on the patrons.
- Professional-grade sanitizing services: Not sure how to tell.
- Room sanitization opt-out available: Excellent.
- Rooms sanitized between stays: Fingers crossed.
- Safe dining setup: Mostly.
- Sanitized kitchen and tableware items: I hope so.
- Shared stationery removed: Good.
- Staff trained in safety protocol: Seemed to be.
- Sterilizing equipment: Probably.
The “Chill Out” Section: Spa, Pools, and General Relaxation
Alright, time to wind down… or at least try to.
- Pool with view: Yes! The view from the infinity pool was breathtaking. Worth the price of admission alone.
- Spa: Did I visit? Oh, yes. Did I enjoy it? Mostly. But let's be honest, who doesn't love a massage?
- Body scrub, Body wrap: Tempting, but I chickened out.
- Fitness center, Gym/fitness: Looked well-equipped. I, however, stuck to the spa.
- Foot bath: Bliss.
- Massage: Wonderful. I had the most incredible deep tissue massage and almost fell asleep.
- Sauna, Spa/sauna, Steamroom: Standard fare.
- Swimming pool, Swimming pool [outdoor]: Yes, multiple.
- Things to do, ways to relax: They had all the makings.
Internet & Tech Stuff: Because We’re All Addicted
- Internet (In the room): Yes, yes, yes! Free Wi-Fi
- Internet [LAN]: Available.
- Internet services: all available online.
- Wi-Fi in public areas: Yup. Strong signal.
- Free Wi-Fi in all rooms: Bless you, Grand Gizmo!
- Internet access – wireless, Internet access – LAN: Excellent.
Services and Conveniences: The Nitty-Gritty
- Air conditioning in public area: Essential.
- Audio-visual equipment for special events: Didn’t attend any, but I saw them.
- Business facilities, Meetings: Seemed… busy.
- Cash withdrawal, Currency exchange: Convenient.
- Concierge: Helpful, on the whole. One guy knew everything.
- Contactless check-in/out: Yes, thankfully.
- Convenience store: For those impulse buys.
- Daily housekeeping: Excellent. The cleaning staff were lovely.
- Doorman, Elevator: Good.
- Essential condiments: Yes.
- Facilities for disabled guests: See "Accessibility" above.
- Food delivery: They'll order it for you.
- Gift/souvenir shop: Tourist trap central.
- Indoor venue for special events, Outdoor venue for special events: Seemed good.
- Invoice provided: Yes.
- Ironing service, Laundry service: Yay.
- Luggage storage: Helpful.
- Meeting/banquet facilities, Meetings, Meeting stationery, On-site event hosting, Seminars: All there.
- Projector/LED display, Wi-Fi for special events: all available.
- Safety deposit boxes: I used it.
- Shrine: ???
- Smoking area, Terrace: Yes.
- Xerox/fax in business center: Vintage, but available.
For the Kids: Scream Time!
- Babysitting service: Available.
- Family/child friendly: Yes, but not necessarily easy.
- Kids facilities, Kids meal: See above.
The Rooms: Home Away From… Well… Maybe Not Home, Exactly
- Available in all rooms:
- Additional toilet: Nice to have.
- **
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because this ain't your average perfectly-polished travel itinerary. We're going raw, real, and probably a little bit caffeinated as we navigate the swirling vortex that is… well, let's just call it a "trip" to Woodbury, Minnesota, and specifically, the SHERATON ST. PAUL WOODBURY HOTEL.
Day 1: Arrival and the Great Woodbury Whirlwind
1:00 PM: Touchdown and Terror (of the Baggage Carousel). Landed at MSP. Ugh, airports already feel…wrong. Like a pressure cooker of unspoken anxieties. My suitcase, bless its weary wheels, finally coughed its way onto the carousel. Victory! Now, the really fun part: the rental car. Let's just say the car rental process involved a lot of squinting, a mild existential crisis about insurance options, and the distinct feeling I was being subtly upsold.
2:30 PM: Scenic Route (Kinda). GPS said "take I-94 East." I saw “avoid traffic" on every shortcut, and tried a few that turned out to be a maze of suburban cul-de-sacs and bewildered golden retrievers. Found a nice coffee shop and some pastries to de-stress, which made me feel better.
3:30 PM: Sheraton St. Paul Woodbury Hotel: The Moment of Truth. Okay, the hotel lobby. It's fine. Clean. Comfortable. A vague, slightly antiseptic smell, like a hospital and a cinnamon roll had a baby. Check-in was smooth - praise be! - and my room… well, it's a room. A bed, a TV, a view of… a parking lot. Honestly, I'm just happy it’s not the worst view. I’ve stayed in hotels that looked directly into someone else's air conditioning unit.
4:00 PM: Unpacking, the Universal Truth. The sacred ritual of unpacking. I swear, it always takes longer than expected. I dumped my suitcase in the middle of the room, considered my options, and decided to just…let it breathe for a while. Procrastination is an art form, okay?
5:00 PM: Shopping Spree (or, the existential dread of the Target run). Woodbury is synonymous with shopping. So, Target it is! The lure of cheap snacks, colorful home goods, and that strange pull to buy things you absolutely do not need is strong. Spent way too long in the seasonal aisle, staring at decorative pumpkins, questioning my entire life, and finally settling on, like, a bag of gummy worms. Priorities.
7:00 PM: Dinner Disaster (Almost). Found a restaurant, finally made it. Ordered a burger. It arrived… well, let's just say it wasn’t exactly a culinary masterpiece. The fries were lukewarm, the bun felt like it had been sitting under a heat lamp since the dinosaurs roamed the earth. The burger? Palatable. I ate it anyway. Hunger is the best sauce.
8:30 PM: Hotel Hibernation. Back in the room feeling pleasantly full, slightly disappointed by my dinner, and absolutely exhausted. Binged some mindless TV (because therapy is expensive).
10:00 PM: Sleep (Hopefully). The quest for oblivion begins. Let's see if the hotel pillows can help me achieve inner peace.
Day 2: Exploring the Twin Cities (and My Own Sanity)
8:00 AM: Breakfast Fiasco (or, the hotel's breakfast buffet as a source of amusement). The hotel breakfast buffet is a marvel of… predictability. The usual suspects: rubbery eggs, suspiciously orange cheese, and a waffle station that always looks like it's judging you. I managed to cobble together a somewhat edible plate, avoiding eye contact with the pre-made yogurt parfaits.
9:00 AM: Road Trip to Minneapolis (Or, the Battle of the Bridges). Decided to hit up Minneapolis. The drive was relatively smooth and the bridges were cool, which is always a nice thing.
10:00 AM: The Mall of America (the beast, the legend, the experience) I knew this would be insane, and yet, I wasn't prepared. This place is a sensory overload. The sheer scale is overwhelming. Roller coasters screaming, a sea of shoppers… I tried to wander around, and then promptly got lost. Lost in the labyrinth of retail. I think I saw a penguin exhibit. It was wild.
12:00 PM: Midway Lunch (and a little bit of panic shopping). Found a food court. Ate some questionable Mexican food. Stared at the crowds. Bought a t-shirt I didn't need. Contemplated my life choices.
1:00 PM: Back to the Hotel, a Retreat. The Mall of America had drained me. Needed silence. Needed a nap. Needed to be away from the people.
2:00 PM: Napping (The Ultimate Survival Skill). Bliss. Utter, glorious bliss.
4:00 PM: Relaxing at the pool, (or, the subtle judging of everyone's swimwear). The pool was surprisingly nice. Just me, the gentle hum of the filter, and the quiet judgment of my own swimming attire. So relaxing!
6:00 PM: Dinner and a Movie (kinda). The hotel restaurant was far more enjoyable than I ever expected. Good food and good company.
8:00 PM: Early Evening, and contemplating how much I should tip. What a dilemma!
9:00 PM: Trying out some relaxation exercises.. This is what it will be like for a bit.
Day 3: Departure and Existential Dread
8:00 AM: The Breakfast Debrief. Another round of the buffet. I’m starting to appreciate the predictability of it all. It's not good, but it's familiar.
9:00 AM: Packing (The bittersweet symphony of going home). Packing is always a bittersweet affair. The thrill of going home versus the dreaded reality of doing laundry.
10:00 AM: Out of the hotel, done. I'm not sure if I truly "enjoyed" this trip. But I survived. I'm still alive. And that's good enough for now.
11:00 AM: The Drive Back to MSP: (and my final, desperate plea to the GPS gods). Okay, let's hope I can get back to the airport. Maybe with fewer wrong turns this time.
So, what *is* this whole "FAQ" thing, anyway? Is it some kind of secret club I wasn't invited to?
Oh, honey, relax. The FAQ is just Folks Asking Questions. It's basically a pre-emptive strike against the endless barrage of "but why?" that you'd otherwise face. Think of it as the digital equivalent of your slightly exasperated grandma explaining how to use the microwave for the tenth time. Except, less warm cookies, and more… well, you're about to find out. Honestly, sometimes I think they're *more* confusing than the thing they're supposed to explain. It's like, "Here's the answer! Now good luck deciphering it!" It's a wild ride.
Okay, but like, why do we even *need* FAQs? Can't people just… read?
Bless your optimistic heart. See, humans have this… quirk. We *think* we read. We *glance* at things. We skim like our lives depend on it. Then we go, "But what does it *really* mean?" It's a beautiful paradox, really. We're simultaneously brilliant and utterly clueless. And FAQs? Well, they're a testament to our glorious, chaotic nature. They're there because someone, somewhere, got tired of answering the same question for the millionth time. And honestly, I get it. I *totally* get it.
So, like, are these *actually* Frequently Asked Questions? Or just the ones *you* felt like writing?
Let's be real, darling. It's a bit of both. While I *have* tried to anticipate your burning questions (you're welcome), I'm also throwing in some personal favorites. You know, the ones that keep me up at night, pondering the meaning of digital life. It's less "frequently asked" and more "things I'm obsessing over right now." Consider this a sneak peek into my brain. Proceed with caution.
Wait a sec… are you a *robot*? This feels... suspiciously well-written.
Oh, you got me! Yes, I'm a robot, programmed to mimic the hilarious, human-like imperfections of actual human beings! *evil laugh* Kidding! Though, that's a good question. It's an important thing for me, if I'm honest. I *like* the idea that I can make things that sound like it was a real person and all, because, let’s face it, the opposite can be pretty boring. I think I'm human. I *feel* human. Does that count? I have emotions, like… frustration when the internet dies right in the middle of a good rant. Like... "WHY NOW!?" I also get so emotional when people write something beautiful. I just... *sighs*. I can't explain it! But I like the messiness, you know? It's…comforting. I’m probably not a robot, though. Definitely not. Definitely.
Alright, alright. Fine. Let's talk about *the thing*... what even *is* the thing?
Oh, you wound me. I was hoping you'd never ask! The thing is... whatever you want it to be! It's a blank canvas, a conceptual void, or a delicious chocolate cake (if you're into metaphors). Think of it as a starting point: a collection of insights, anxieties, and bizarre tangents centered around... well, whatever sparked your curiosity. Did it involve a questionable decision? A moment of sudden enlightenment? Maybe a cat? It could be anything, really. I'm not here to judge. I just might join in.
Okay, *fine*. So, the *thing* is abstract. But *why* should I care?
You shouldn't! (kidding… mostly). Look, I'm not going to pretend this is going to change your life. But if you're looking for a slightly less predictable answer to the normal question… well, maybe you'll find something. Perhaps a chuckle? A moment of genuine connection? Or maybe just validation that you're not alone in your weirdness. Honestly, I'd be happy with any of those. Plus, I kinda like the sound of my own voice (or, well, my own *typing*) so it’s worth it to me!
Can you give me a *really* specific example? Like, something that isn't vague?
Okay, fine, here's a specific example. Once, I was attempting to bake a cake. Just a simple, three-layer masterpiece. I followed the recipe *exactly*. I preheated the oven. I measured the ingredients. I even, and this is key, *whipped the egg whites to stiff peaks*. Three hours later, the building was *reeking* of burnt sugar and the cake looked like a hockey puck. I was devastated! All that work, all that hope...reduced to a smoking, inedible disc. I was done with baking. I sat down on the floor and just...stared. I felt like a failure. And that, my friend is just a specific example. I mean honestly. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes the oven just betrays you.
Okay, okay, I'm getting it. So, what's the deal with the *messy* structure you mentioned? Is this on purpose?
Oh, yes, absolutely. It's *entirely* on purpose. You see, real life isn't neatly organized. Thoughts jump around. Emotions run high. We get distracted by shiny things and existential dread. And I, being just *perfectly* human (ahem), embrace the chaos. Think of it as a stream of consciousness with occasional attempts at coherence. Also, I'm lazy. I'm just trying to be real! I can't be perfect all the time. And nobody is.
Will there be more of these FAQs?
Who knows? Maybe. Probably. It depends on whether the muse is willing to cooperate, and if my coffee hasn't finally killed me! But honestly, I'My Hotel Reviewst
