Vicksburg Getaway: Unforgettable Stay at Howard Johnson by Wyndham!
Vicksburg Getaway: Howard Johnson by Wyndham - My Honest (and Slightly Chaotic) Review
Okay, folks. Buckle up. I just got back from a stay at the Howard Johnson in Vicksburg, and let me tell you, it was… an experience. I'm supposed to write a review, right? One of those slick, professional ones? Yeah, well, that ain't gonna happen. This is gonzo, baby. This is the raw, unfiltered truth.
SEO & Metadata Stuff (We'll Get This Over With First):
- Keywords: Vicksburg, Howard Johnson, Wyndham, Hotel Review, Mississippi, Accessible Hotel, Swimming Pool, Free Wi-Fi, Restaurant, Spa, Fitness Center, Cleanliness, Family Friendly, Wheelchair Accessible, Business Facilities, Pet Friendly, Reviews.
- Meta Description: My hilarious and brutally honest review of the Howard Johnson by Wyndham in Vicksburg, MS. Find out if it's the perfect getaway, or if it's a slightly-less-than-perfect adventure. Accessibility, amenities, food, and service - I'm spilling the beans!
Alright, legal mumbo jumbo out of the way. Let's dive in.
First Impressions & the Dreaded Check-In…
The exterior? Well, it's a Howard Johnson. You know what I mean. The iconic orange roof, the slightly dated charm. It's got a certain je ne sais quoi… or maybe it's just the Southern heat playing tricks on my eyes. Check-in was… a mixed bag. The front desk staff were genuinely friendly, BUT… there was a slight kerfuffle with my room. See, I'd booked a "non-smoking" room. (Yes, I know, I'm a saint.) So I go to the front desk to check in, and the guy is frantically looking around… like he doesn't know where my reservation is.
He apologizes and tells me I’m being upgraded to a suite. Score! (I love upgrades! Especially when the original suite isn't ready, so there is a considerable wait).
Rooms & the Comfort Factor (or Lack Thereof)
Okay, first: the air conditioning? Crucial. It was Mississippi in August, for crying out loud! Thankfully, the AC was a workhorse and blasted cool air into the room. The room had all the basics: a comfy bed with extra long beds (which my back was thankful for), a desk, a fridge, a closet, and the all-important free Wi-Fi. (Seriously, free Wi-Fi in all rooms? In this day and age, it's still worth mentioning, and they've got it!) Also, the wake-up service actually worked… which is saying something.
But the "suite" wasn't pristine. It felt a little… lived-in. There were some mysterious stains on the carpet (shudders), and the window definitely did not open. (Major bummer for a fresh air fiend like myself.) The soundproofing wasn't exactly stellar. I heard the occasional… enthusiastic karaoke session from a nearby room, and the exterior corridor was definitely… external . I could hear everything! Still, it was a decent space (with the additional toilet and a separate shower/bathtub, thank goodness!), and the basic amenities were there. They definitely had complimentary tea and coffee/tea maker.
Cleanliness & Safety: The Post-Pandemic Reality
They made a big deal about their anti-viral cleaning products and daily disinfection. I, for one, appreciate the effort. I may not have seen them cleaning, but I felt like they were trying. They also have hand sanitizer stations everywhere, and the staff seemed well-versed in safety protocols. I felt relatively safe despite the exterior corridor exposure. Although, I can't help but wonder if the room sanitization opt-out is a real thing.
Dining, Drinking, & the Unexpected Culinary Adventures
Alright, let's talk food. The Howard Johnson had a restaurant on site. I'M a big fan of the fact they had breakfast [buffet]. Nothing fancy, but it got the job done. I went for the Western breakfast. It involved some rubbery eggs, suspiciously processed sausage, and coffee/tea in the restaurant. The coffee was…functional. The Asian breakfast options were available as well.
There was also a poolside bar, which was a total bonus. Sipping a cold drink while watching the sun set over the… well, over the parking lot (it was a view), was pretty bliss. I did not get to try the happy hour, but I imagine if it was anything like the breakfast, it would be a wild ride.
Amenities & the "Things To Do" Rundown
- The Pool: The swimming pool [outdoor] was a highlight! It was clean, refreshing, and a perfect escape from the Mississippi heat. It had the pool with a view of the parking lot. Still enjoyable.
- Fitness Center: They had a gym/fitness center. I didn't use it because I was on vacation.
- Spa/Sauna: I am sorry to report, there was no spa/sauna, nor was a body scrub or body wrap a possibility.
- Accessibility: Now, this is important. I noticed they had facilities for disabled guests, including wheelchair accessible rooms. Though not sure about car power charging stations.
- Services & Conveniences: They offered 24-hour front desk, cash withdrawal. The convenience store was handy for…uh… late-night snack runs.
Things I Loved (And Didn't Love So Much)
- Loved: The staff's friendliness, the powerful AC, the pool. The free Wi-Fi!
- Didn't Love: The slightly…dated appearance. The stains on the carpet. The karaoke.
Final Verdict: Should You Stay Here?
Look, the Howard Johnson in Vicksburg isn't the Ritz-Carlton. It's not trying to be. It's a solid, no-frills hotel that’s geared to providing a great experience at a reasonable price.. It's a good place to lay your head after a long day of sightseeing. If you're looking for pure luxury, look elsewhere. But if you're after a clean, comfortable, and reasonably priced stay, with decent amenities and some Southern hospitality, then give it a shot.
Just… maybe bring some Clorox wipes just in case. You know, for peace of mind.
Overall Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars.
Sonesta Nashville Airport: Unbeatable Deals & Luxury Await!
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because this ain't your grandma's sanitized travel itinerary. This is the unfiltered, slightly-caffeinated, and potentially-regretful-the-next-morning guide to…vicksburg. Specifically, the Howard Johnson – God bless its slightly-worn, mid-century soul – in Vicksburg, Mississippi.
Day 1: Arrival, Existential Dread, and the Unexpected Symphony of a Mini-Fridge
- 1:00 PM: Arrive in Vicksburg. The drive was… a thing. Endless highway, questionable gas station coffee (I swear, it tasted suspiciously like burnt regrets), and a nagging feeling that I'd forgotten something. Probably my sanity.
- 1:30 PM: Check into the Howard Johnson. The lobby… well, it exists. Let's just say it's got a certain lived-in charm. The kind of charm that whispers, "This place has seen things." The check-in process? Efficient, if you consider a perpetually tired-looking lady efficiently handing you a key.
- 2:00 PM: Room inspection. Okay, here's the deal. The bedspread? Terracotta. The carpet? Questionable stains that I really don't want to investigate. The air conditioning, though? Surprisingly effective. And the mini-fridge. This is the star of the show, folks. The rhythmic hum… the subtle vibrations… the way it sounds, when it's quiet in that room, like a symphony of chilled optimism. Which I definitely needed. It held a couple of ice cold water bottles. Yes!
- 3:00 PM: The first attempt at the Vicksburg National Military Park. Found myself inexplicably drawn to the Illinois Memorial. It's HUGE. Intimidating. And, for reasons I can't explain, kinda… moved me. Standing there, staring at all the names etched in stone… I got that lump-in-the-throat feeling. War is awful. People were brave. And then, I got distracted by a squirrel. Classic.
- 5:00 PM: Dinner. Went to a place called "Rusty's on the River." The catfish? Fried to perfection. The sweet tea? Sweet – like, diabetes-inducing sweet. But the view of the Mississippi? Absolutely stunning. For a minute, I forgot about the questionable carpet situation.
- 7:00 PM: Back at the Howard Johnson. The mini-fridge is still humming its delightful tune. Contemplating ordering pizza. Probably shouldn't. But, the siren song of cheesy, greasy goodness is strong. Okay, pizza it is.
- 9:00 PM: Pizza consumed. Regret starting to set in. Mini-fridge still going strong. Wondering if I should actually read one of those pamphlets about Vicksburg I keep ignoring. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Probably the next day. I need to sleep. Seriously, what goes on around this hotel is hard to say.
Day 2: Civil War, Casual Disasters, and the Unbelievable Power of a Peanut Butter Sandwich
- 8:00 AM: Wake up (ish). The terracotta bedspread, I think it's growing on me. The mini-fridge? Still a joy. Breakfast: instant coffee and a surprisingly decent donut from the gas station down the road. It was only slightly stale.
- 9:00 AM: Attempt #2 at the Military Park. This time, I'm armed with a map, a bottle of water, and a vague sense of purpose. I drove to the USS Cairo Museum. And I was like, wow! It's a sunken Union ironclad. It's utterly amazing. Like a time capsule. Seeing it… it was so real, so… tangible. You could practically feel the history, the bravery, the absolute mess of war.
- 11:00 AM: The Battle of Vicksburg Museum. So much stuff. So many artifacts. And the mannequins. Dear sweet merciful heavens, the mannequins. Some of them are a little creepy, and yes, I admit I might have jumped slightly when one of them appeared to move. Okay, I overreacted.
- 1:00 PM: Lunch: peanut butter sandwich. Because, sometimes, that's all you need. And I hadn't had one since I was a kid, and now it was amazing! I mean, pure, comfort food bliss.
- 2:00 PM: I went to the Lower Mississippi River Museum. If anything, it gave a better sense of the whole Mississippi's importance than I had before the trip.
- 4:00 PM: Disaster. I was trying to be all adventurous and drive the backroads. I got lost. Really, REALLY lost. Ended up on a gravel road that seemed to be leading directly into the swamp. My car is not meant for this. Panicked. Almost turned around and went back to the hotel, but the sun was out. So, I went to a river. And I watched the water, and thought. And it was really nice.
- 6:00 PM: Dinner. This time, I tried something different. A place recommended to me, because it had live music. The band was… well, let's just say they were enthusiastic. The food was, uh… edible. It was the kind of "authentic" Southern experience where you half expect a possum to wander in.
- 8:00 PM: Back at the Howard Johnson. The mini-fridge has become my spiritual guide. Decided to get a bucket of chicken. The chicken was… chicken. The mini-fridge? Steady. Reliable. A beacon of chilled hope in a slightly-worn world.
Day 3: Departures, Reflections (Maybe), and a Final Goodbye to the Mini-Fridge
- 6:00 AM: Wake up. This is the day. Feeling a weird mix of relief and… maybe… a little bit of sadness. This place, it's grown on me. The carpet? Still questionable. The mini-fridge? Still a masterpiece.
- 7:00 AM: Check-out. The lady at the front desk is the same as before. She smiles wearily at me. "Enjoy your trip?" she asks. I just wave goodbye, leaving her to her day.
- 7:30 AM: One last mini-fridge moment. Just to savor it. The hum. The gentle vibrations. The promise of chilled water (or maybe, if I'm honest with myself, the potential for a late-night beer I never got around to).
- 8:00 AM: I drive away from Vicksburg. Leaving behind the battlefields, the river, the catfish, the slightly-off-kilter charm of the Howard Johnson (and its glorious, glorious mini-fridge). I definitely needed that.
- 8:15 AM: I realize I forgot to get a souvenir. Oh well.
- 8:30 AM: Start planning my return.
So, yes, Vicksburg. It's a place that sticks with you. It's a place that makes you think. And I guess, at the end of the day, it's a place where the mini-fridge is a star. Now I guess I'll continue looking for my sanity.
Escape to Houston's Medical Center: Luxury & Comfort Await at DoubleTree!
Ugh, I'm totally lost. Where do I even *begin* with [The Thing]?
Alright, first off, breathe. It's okay to be lost. I was *supremely* lost the first time I tried to deal with [The Thing]. I literally spent, like, a solid hour staring blankly at a [relevant object] thinking, "What… even… *is* this?"
My advice? Start small. Don't try to conquer the whole mountain at once. Picture it like trying to eat a whole pizza in one bite. (And trust me, I've been tempted). Break [The Thing] down into the tiniest, most manageable pieces. Maybe just, like, "Step 1: Google." Seriously. That's often a perfectly acceptable starting point.
Also, ask for help! Swallow your pride. I once spent three *days* trying to [relate action to "the thing"], only to discover I was using the wrong [tool/component]. My face was red, my ego was bruised, and I felt like a complete idiot. But hey, lesson learned. There are people out there (maybe even me!) who probably dealt with this already. So, reach out! You are not alone, trust me, I've been there.
Okay, I've started, but it's just… boring. How do I stay interested in [The Thing]?
Boring is the ENEMY. Seriously. I've abandoned so many projects mid-stream because of the B Word. My advice? This is the tricky part. But here's a few things that helped me.
Firstly, Find the *why* I mean, like, REALLY find the *why*. Why are you doing this? What do you hope to get out of it? Connecting it to a real goal, even if silly, can make the process a little more bearable. For example, I once had to [relate action to the thing] just because I wanted to show off to a [related person]. That petty goal kept me going.
Secondly, reward yourself. Small victories deserve a treat. Did you just finish a particularly tedious step? Good! Ice cream. Chocolate. Watching a whole season. You earned it. Think of it as gamification, like leveling up your life or something.
And finally… embrace the mess. Trust me, it gets untidy. Don't strive for perfection, strive for *done*. I still have [related object] that are still broken or incomplete and, frankly, I'm okay with it. It's imperfect, it's real, and actually, it's a pretty accurate representation of life, isn't it?!
I keep messing up. Like, *really* messing up. This is going horribly! What do I do?!
Oh, sweet summer child. Welcome to the club. Messing up is practically the national sport of tackling [The Thing]. I swear I've personally [relate action to "the thing"] and ended up crying, throwing things, and questioning all my life choices.
First, take a deep breath. Then, STOP. Seriously. Step away. Go for a walk. Watch a cat video. (Always a good choice). Reset.
Next, find the mistake. Okay, here’s where it takes time. But it's critical sometimes. The most important part. When I was doing [action, relate it to the 'thing'], I messed up the whole thing and even made a major mistake. I was so mad, but I figured out what went wrong, and I actually learned a lot from it. It was a painful lesson, but a useful one.
Finally, adjust your expectations. Things are probably not going to be perfect the first time. Or the second. Or the tenth. But that's okay! Perfection is the enemy of progress. The goal is to learn, adapt, and eventually, hopefully, triumph over [The Thing]. Or, at the very least, survive it. And hey, if all else fails, blame it on the [related reason, e.g., Monday, the weather, the universe] and go back to bed. We've all been there.
Help! I'm overwhelmed! How do I break down [The Thing] into something manageable?
Okay, overwhelming. I GET IT. Sometimes [The Thing] feels like a giant, snarling [related metaphor, e.g., dragon, octopus, blob of doom] about to swallow you whole. Deep breaths.
Let's start with this. Literally anything. I once had to [relate action to "the thing"] and was so completely lost and overwhelmed. I mean, I felt like a toddler trying to build a skyscraper with toothpicks. It was bad.
Now, let's break it down. Think of it like this:
[Action One]: Do this. It might be a little bit hard, but you will be able to.
[Action Two]: Do this. It might be a little bit easier, but this is probably where most people fail.
[Action Three]: Do this but make a list of every single little task you can think of. This is going to be hard but you can probably do it.
And there, you're done. If all of that feels too hard, just grab a friend, a pet or even just pretend you're talking to me and go for it.
Is [The Thing] even worth it? It's making me miserable.
Okay, honest question. And it deserves an honest answer. Sometimes… no. It's not worth it. There, I said it! Sometimes, [The Thing] is just a soul-crushing, time-sucking endeavor that's better left abandoned.
I once spent months trying to [relate action to "the thing"] and literally hated every minute of it. I was stressed, unhappy, and constantly questioning my life choices. In the end, I realized I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I needed to cut my losses. And you know what? I felt IMMENSELY better after I did.
So how do you know to quit? Ask yourself these questions:
- Am I actually enjoying this in any way?
- Is it causing me undue stress, anxiety, or misery?
- Is there an alternative? A less painful option?
If you answered "no" or "yes" to those questions, then it might be time to walk away. It's okay to admit defeat. Your sanity (and maybe your happiness) is more important than [The Thing]. Seriously. Prioritize yourself.
Okay, I’m in the thick of it. What are some quick cheat-sheet tips for dealing with [The Thing]?
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