Moriarty's Best-Kept Secret: Quality Inn Unveiled!
Moriarty's Best-Kept Secret: Quality Inn Unveiled! (Spoiler Alert: It's Not That Secret Anymore, And That's Okay!)
Alright, folks, buckle up. I'm back from a whirlwind stay at the Quality Inn in Moriarty, and let me tell you, it was… an experience. Now, before you picture gleaming chrome and personalized butler service, let’s be realistic. We're talking Moriarty, New Mexico, not the Ritz. But you know what? This place delivered a surprising number of punches, and I'm here to unpack them like someone who just survived a particularly sweaty Vegas buffet.
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Accessibility: A Mixed Bag (Like My Finances After This Trip!)
Okay, so I’m not in a wheelchair but accessibility is important, right? The website said there were facilities for disabled guests. Elevator, check. But it wasn’t exactly a smooth, seamless journey for someone with mobility issues. Hallways, while not narrow, weren't exactly sprawling either. I'd recommend calling ahead & being very specific about the room requirements. This is not a Four Seasons, so manage your expectations.
Rooms & Amenities: Comfort Zones (Mostly)
- Available in All Rooms: Let's see… Air Conditioning (thank GOD, because desert heat!), Alarm Clock (still remember the days the only option was to call the front desk). Blackout curtains are a solid win. Coffee/tea maker – essential for sanity. Free bottled water? Nice touch! Wi-Fi [free]? YES! Free Wi-fi in all rooms! Amen! And let me tell you, it actually worked. I even managed to upload a few Instagram stories of my questionable breakfast choices (more on that later).
- The Good: My room had a decent desk, a comfortable (enough) bed, and a surprisingly functional TV. The shower had good water pressure, which is a massive win. The complimentary toiletries were… serviceable. The AC kept things cool. The safe was there, but I, admittedly, didn't trust it enough to put my credit card in it.
- The Not-So-Good: The carpet was a bit… tired. The decorations were… well, they existed. The lighting was a bit gloomy. And the view from my window? Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly postcard-worthy. And for any of you who’ve ever stayed in these kinds of places, the soundproofing was… iffy. I heard some VERY interesting conversations through the walls.
Cleanliness and Safety: A Pleasant Surprise
Okay, here's where the Quality Inn Moriarty really pulled it together. Pre-pandemic, I'd be skeptical, but things are different now.
- The Goods: The lobby was sparkling. The rooms looked sanitized, even though I didn’t see anyone disinfecting anything myself. Hand sanitizer everywhere. Signs reminding people to keep their distance. The staff seemed to be wearing masks (though I saw more chins than noses, but, hey, it's a start!). Rooms sanitized between stays, Staff trained in safety protocol. were definitely a strong point. The whole Covid thing still weighs heavily on my mind, but I was reassured.
- The Questionable: Room sanitization opt-out available? - yes, and I'm always suspicious about that, but it was good to see the option. Daily disinfection in common areas? I didn't witness it, but still, I felt ok in the morning.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: Carb Loading 101
- Breakfast [buffet]: Ah, the buffet. This is where my stream-of-consciousness truly began. Forget Michelin stars, we're talking about a breakfast buffet that… had its moments. Eggs that were possibly real-ish? Check. Cereal? Check. Waffles that looked vaguely like… waffles? Check. Breakfast takeaway service was an option – handy if you’re rushing to your next desert adventure. The coffee was… well, it was coffee. The whole experience was a little bit like a high-stakes gamble. Will I get food poisoning? Probably not. Will it be the best breakfast of my life? Definitely not. Was it free? Yup. And let's be real, free is my favorite flavor.
- Restaurants: I didn’t find any on-site restaurants, but there were some places down the street. I tried some of them for some real diner grub, but it was a little far, or I was too lazy (probably).
Things to Do & Ways to Relax: Moriarty, Where Relaxation Meets… Well, Moriarty
- Pool with view: Okay, the pool. It's outdoors, and it's on the small side. The view? Technically, it's of the parking lot and the highway, but hey, it's a pool! When it's hot out, that’s all that matters. It's a bit rough around the edges, but it was clean and refreshing.
- Fitness center: (Gym/fitness) - I heard it exists. I didn't see it firsthand. I can only imagine it’s a room with a treadmill or two, and a heavy, awkward smelling elliptical and a lonely set of dumbbells.
- Spa/sauna: Haha. No. Let’s get real. This isn't a luxury resort.
- Things to consider: Moriarty isn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. The hotel itself wasn't overflowing with options, but I wasn't going there knowing it'd be like a Disneyland.
Services and Conveniences: Helpful, If You Need Them
- The Good: Daily housekeeping, 24-hour front desk, a pretty good elevator. There were facilities for disabled guests. They offered a few options for business travelers. Free parking (always a plus).
- The Quirks: The convenience store had the bare essentials (chips, soda, and probably some questionable microwave meals). Contactless check-in/out – a nice touch, though I did have to interact with a person eventually.
For the Kids: Family-Friendly, Sure, But…
- Babysitting service: Not that I know of.
- Family/child friendly: The pool is a kid-friendly, provided they behave.
Getting Around: Car is King
- Car park [free of charge]: This is a car town. You need a car. The hotel has plenty of parking, and it’s free!
The Verdict: An Affordable Adventure
Look, the Quality Inn in Moriarty isn't going to win any awards for luxury. It’s not perfect. It's a little rough around the edges. And I definitely wouldn't take my mother there for her birthday.
But you know what? For the price, it's a solid option. It’s clean (mostly), it’s safe, and it gets the job done. It's a place to crash after a long day of driving, or a base camp for exploring the quirky desert towns around New Mexico.
Would I stay there again? Absolutely. Provided I don't have expectations that are too high. It's far from perfect, and that's kind of the charm of the place. You go in knowing it's not going to be perfect, but you get a decent value, a clean bed, and a pool, and that's what matters.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars (would be 4 if they served bacon that was crispy! And maybe offered an espresso machine with the coffee)
Marshfield's BEST Hotel? AmericInn Review (You WON'T Believe This!)Okay, buckle up, buttercups. This isn't your sanitized, bullet-point travel guide. This is a diary of survival in Moriarty, New Mexico, fueled by questionable gas station coffee and the desperate hope that the continental breakfast won't be a complete disaster. We're talking Quality Inn, people. Let's see what kind of chaos we can make.
Day 1: Moriarty, My Ass (aka Arrival and a Dose of Reality)
1:00 PM - Arrival at Moriarty, courtesy of a road trip fueled by hope and a questionable playlist. Okay, so the drive from… well, it doesn't matter where I drove from. Suffice it to say, it involved a lot of "are we there yet?" even from the driver, me. Moriarty. Who even goes to Moriarty, except maybe people like me, trying to escape something? The landscape is… brown. Mostly. And vast. Reminds me of my ex-wife's soul – expansive, but ultimately, kinda empty.
1:30 PM - Checking into the Quality Inn. The front desk clerk has a nametag that reads "Gladys," and she's already seen things I can only imagine. Gladys is a veteran. You can see it in her eyes. She gives me a room key without even the faintest flicker of surprise when I accidentally spill my bag of trail mix on the counter. "Happens," she sighs, handing me a wet wipe. "Room 212. Good luck." I think she means it. And my god, do I need it.
2:00 PM - The Room. Let's Get Real. Oh, the room. It smells faintly of bleach and regret. The carpet has seen better days, probably involving spilled soda and unsupervised children. There's a TV with roughly a thousand channels, 998 of which are religious programming. I'm starting to understand why people pray in this town. I wonder if they got the memo about the remote also controlling my air conditioning? Nope. It’s freezing regardless. Am I going to freeze to death? Will I even care? This room is starting to look kinda cozy.
2:30 PM - Impulse Buy: Gas Station Coffee and a Pack of Gum. The coffee tastes like lukewarm sadness in a styrofoam cup. The gum promises "fresh breath" but delivers only a fleeting sense of minty failure. But hey, it’s something. It’s Moriarty.
3:00 PM - Attempt at "Exploring" Moriarty. I drive around. There's a post office, a feed store, and a Dollar General. I find a sad-looking park with a swing set that looks like it hasn't seen a child in a decade. I feel like a particularly jaded tumbleweed. I see some dogs, though, at least they are happy to exist!
5:00 PM - Dinner at a Local Diner (Name Redacted to Protect the Innocent). I walk in. The air is thick with the smell of fried food and unspoken truths. The waitress, a woman with a beehive hairdo that could withstand a hurricane, stares at me like I'm an alien. I order a burger. It arrives. I eat it. It's… adequate. The best thing about it? No, the only good thing about it? The coffee. Finally. And even that's just okay. I eavesdrop on a conversation between two grizzled cowboys. I catch snippets about cattle, drought, and broken hearts. I think I'm starting to understand the allure of this town. It's… authentic. And depressing. The only person who has seen more life than Gladys is, I swear, the cook.
6:30 PM - Back to the Room. TV, Staring into the Void, and Maybe Crying (Don't Judge). Channel surfing until my eyes start to cross. I find a nature documentary about penguins. Suddenly, Moriarty doesn't feel so bad. At least I’m not freezing to death in Antarctica. Yet.
9:00 PM - The Continental Breakfast Brochure (Yes, I'm Already Planning). It's a glossy pamphlet promising "a delicious and satisfying start to your day!" My gut tells me this is a lie that will be delivered in the form of stale bagels and watery orange juice. But hey, maybe they’ll have mini-wheats. I'm a simple man.
Day 2: The Great Moriarty Breakfast Battle and a Deep Dive into the Meaning of Life (Maybe)
7:00 AM - The Continental Breakfast. The Truth Unveiled. Dear God. The bagels are stale. The orange juice is suspiciously orange. And the mini-wheats? Non-existent. I grab a sad-looking muffin that tastes vaguely of cardboard and try to channel my inner zen master. I'm pretty sure the other guests are judging me for taking two packets of those tiny, foil-wrapped butter pats. But honestly, it's the only thing on the breakfast bar that resembles food.
7:30 AM - The Coffee. I return with a giant cup for my second round of breakfast, which is just more butter patties. It’s probably the best part so far. Even more so than the sleep I got in the room.
8:00 AM - The World's Largest Cross: I heard about this, and I’m not a religious guy, but I’m in the area. I figured, what the heck? The Cross is massive. Like, really, really massive. Seriously, imagine GoogleMaps. I stop, and stand there, staring for a good solid hour or so. It's a beautiful moment in this bleak landscape. I consider the meaning of it all. Then I shrug and think, "Well, now I know why they named it that."
9:00 AM - The Gift Shop: Oh my god. The gift shop had everything from tiny, plastic crosses to a full-sized statue of Jesus. There's a woman buying a t-shirt that says "I Love Jesus, and I'm Not Afraid to Show It!" I feel like an imposter. Like I should be walking around with a big sign that that says “Definitely Lived Here Before.” I get a keychain that says “Moriarty, NM - You’re Welcome”. I still don’t know what I thank them for.
11:00 AM - Moriarty Escape Plan. Okay, I've had enough. I'm hitting the road. Maybe I'll head west. Maybe I'll head east or just stay here. Hell, maybe I would be happier just staying here. But I’m leaving.
11:15 AM - Final Thoughts. Okay, so Moriarty wasn't exactly a paradise. It was… Moriarty. But you know what? There’s a strange sort of beauty in its bleakness. A quiet dignity. And hey, at least I survived the continental breakfast. And Gladys. And the room. Okay, I'm leaving. But I'll never forget… well, I probably will. But hey, those butter pats were good! Later, gators.
Moriarty's Best-Kept Secret: Quality Inn Unveiled! - (Brace Yourself)
Okay, spill the tea. What *actually* is Moriarty's Best-Kept Secret? Is it a hidden speakeasy? A portal to another dimension?
Alright, alright, settle down. Forget the hidden speakeasies and interdimensional portals, because Moriarty's Best-Kept Secret... is the Quality Inn. Yep. The Quality Inn. And before you roll your eyes and hit the back button, LET ME FINISH. It's... well it *was* the best-kept secret. Now the cat's out the bag. Trust me, I've stayed in some dumps in my life. Seriously. This isn't one of those. I swear. Think of it as... a strangely comforting, time-warp experience. It's like stepping into a parallel universe where beige reigns supreme.
So... it's just a regular motel? What's so secret-squirrel about that?
"Just a regular motel"? Oh honey, no. That's where you're wrong. It's *strategically* unassuming. It's camouflage! It's like, the perfect blend of "I'm just here to rest my weary head" and "Oh, but secretly, I want to be pampered, just a little". The secret has to be the value! Seriously, the price is so ridiculously reasonable that you'll think you're robbing them. Okay? And then, the staff... bless their hearts. They operate with a level of efficiency that's almost unsettling. Seriously, I checked in once, and before I could even fully describe the situation, the key and the "have a nice day" were in my grasp! It's a whirlwind.
What's the best room to get? Any insider tips?
Okay, this is where things get... nuanced. Honestly? There's no "best" room. They're all... consistent. Let's call it *uniformly* beige. But my insider tip (that I probably shouldn't divulge, but whatever, secrets are meant to be shared!) is to request a room away from the vending machines and the ice machine. Trust me, you don't want the symphony of a thousand sugar-crazed late-night snackers. And if you *really* want to up your game, ask for a room on the second floor. It just... feels... better. Maybe it's the illusion of safety? Or maybe it's just a personal delusion. But hey, whatever works, right?
What's the breakfast situation like? Is it worth getting out of bed for?
Ah, the breakfast. This is a real adventure, let me tell you. It's continental, alright? But like, *continental* with a capital C. Think pre-packaged muffins, maybe some slightly-stale cereal, and the coffee...oh, the coffee. It's... an experience. It's like drinking brown water that somehow still gives you the caffeine jitters. BUT! And this is the secret! They usually have a waffle maker. And the waffles... are glorious. Fluffy, warm, and a blank canvas for all the sugary goodness you can handle. I once ate three. Don't judge me. It was a dark time. But a delicious one. But no, it's worth it. Definitely worth it.
Okay, tell me a really memorable experience you had at the Quality Inn. Something that showcases its... unique charm.
Alright, hold on to your hat. This is a good one. This happened during the great blizzard of '20-something.' I was stuck. *Seriously* stuck. The roads were impassable; I was stranded. I stumbled into the Quality Inn, looking like a drowned rat. I was freezing, terrified (driving in snow isn't my forte, okay?), and generally, a mess. The woman behind the desk, whose name I can't remember, but who had a kind, almost weary, but still welcoming smile, took one look at me and didn't even hesitate. "Room 214," she said. "It's nice and quiet. And the heat works."
Now, Room 214. The beige was... particularly prominent. But the heat! It was like a warm hug from the gods. I think I cried. I ordered room service (which was surprisingly prompt and edible). I watched terrible television. I slept. I slept *hard*. The next morning, after the aforementioned waffle-fueled breakfast, I felt...renewed. Not because of the luxurious surroundings, because, let's be honest, they weren't. But because of the unexpected kindness, the reliable warmth, and the feeling of being... safe. It was a small bubble of normalcy in the middle of utter chaos. That's the magic of the Quality Inn. It's not glamorous. It's not fancy. But it's real. And sometimes, that's all you need.
Is there anything *bad* about the Quality Inn? Be honest!
Okay, okay, okay. No place is perfect. The internet connection... it can be a tad spotty. And, let's be real, the décor is... *dated*. The occasional mysterious stain? Could happen. But honestly? Those are minor quibbles. What's bad is sometimes you get the feeling that the walls have heard *everything*. Everything! But maybe that's just the charm of a place with history, right?
Would you recommend it? Seriously, would you tell a friend to stay there?
Absolutely. Without hesitation. To a certain type of friend, of course. Not the high-maintenance ones. But the ones who appreciate a good deal, a touch of quirky charm, and a reliable waffle maker. I'd tell them, "Go. Embrace the beige-ness. It's an experience. You might even find yourself loving it, just a little. And hey, if you don't, at least you'll have a story." And I just know you can tell me exactly how it was. I feel the place in my bones.
What's the *real* secret behind its attraction?
Okay, this is a bit philosophical. The secret isn't the building, the beige, or the (mostly) functional amenities. The secret? It's a place to breathe. A place to *be*. In a world of constantly changing, shiny, brand-new everything, the Quality Inn is the opposite. It's predictable. It's reliable. It's familiar. It just... works.
