I stayed at the New Astoria for three nights with my partner and daughter over the August Bank Holiday weekend.

I am giving it 4/10.

I would also stay there again.

I appreciate that these two statements appear incompatible. Please bear with me.

We paid roughly £70 per night all-in for the three of us, in central Blackpool, over a Bank Holiday weekend. At that price I wasn’t expecting the Ritz. I required somewhere to sleep, wash and recover between bouts of spending money on Blackpool nonsense.

On those terms, the New Astoria largely delivered.

Our first introduction to Room 4 was discovering that the code we’d been given didn’t work. This was eventually sorted, and we entered what would become our home for the next three nights.

The bed was clean and comfortable. The shower was genuinely excellent. The television worked and Netflix was already signed into an account called “Room 4”, which felt both convenient and faintly ominous.

Whoever stayed before us appears to enjoy murder documentaries.

So do I.

We understood one another immediately.

The room itself was very warm and ventilation was more of an aspiration than a feature. The window opened approximately enough to confirm that outdoors continued to exist, but not enough to meaningfully alter the climate of Room 4.

The bathroom had no extractor fan and some visible mould. It was also so small that we affectionately came to know it as the toilet cupboard.

Bathroom privacy was largely theoretical.

If you are staying with somebody with whom you haven’t yet reached the stage of your relationship where bodily functions can be acknowledged, the New Astoria may accelerate proceedings.

The kettle filter was filthy and all three cups had visible residue, so I washed everything myself with Fairy Liquid and a Scrub Daddy and eventually bought our own cups.

I left the Fairy Liquid in the bathroom cabinet.

You’re welcome, Room 4.

The building regularly smelled strongly of cannabis from downstairs. There is a Liverpudlian gentleman living below who appeared to be responsible for much of the distinctive local air freshener. He was perfectly pleasant whenever we encountered him, has an exceptionally well-behaved dog, and sings rather well.

The dog barked approximately three times during our entire stay.

I therefore have no complaints regarding the dog.

The humans of Blackpool were considerably louder.

Our room backed onto a sort of courtyard surrounded by several hotels. Because it was August, everybody had their windows open.

This created what I can only describe as the Greater Blackpool Inter-Hotel Orgasm Festival 2026.

Performances generally commenced around 11:30pm and continued intermittently until approximately 3am.

Nobody had advertised this entertainment when we booked.

Nevertheless, it was included at no additional charge.

There was also some shouting downstairs on Sunday evening, followed later by doors slamming and noises suggesting either furniture relocation or an extremely determined attempt at interior redesign. I cannot tell you what happened because I don’t know, and I’m not going to turn overheard noises into a crime documentary.

What I can tell you about with confidence is the electricity.

Electrical provision: exceptional. We counted sixteen plug sockets in Room 4, including two inexplicably halfway up the wall. We can only assume the Blackpool Illuminations are powered from here.

By the third day, some cobwebs had appeared that I swear weren’t there when we arrived. As I had purchased a purple witch Build-A-Bear called Magic during the weekend, I have chosen to regard this as collaborative interior decoration.

Would I recommend the New Astoria to somebody expecting a polished three-star hotel experience?

No.

Would I recommend bringing your own cup?

Absolutely.

Would I stay there again for £70 a night for three people when I wanted somewhere central, cheap and functional in Blackpool?

Weirdly, yes.

The hotel didn’t become cleaner over the weekend. The ventilation didn’t improve. Nobody came and removed the mould. I simply became familiar with the place.

That isn’t the same thing as trust. Most of our belongings remained locked in the suitcase whenever we left.

Think of it as comfortable familiarity with appropriate operational security.

And perhaps that’s why I’ve ended up strangely fond of it.

Blackpool itself is messy, noisy, tacky, funny, occasionally alarming and completely unapologetic about all of those things.

The New Astoria somehow fitted.

4/10.

Would come again.

But I’m bringing Fairy Liquid.

— Frost ❄️