Escape to Somerset: Your Home Away From Home at Extended Stay America!
Escape to Somerset: My Honest (& Messy) Review of Extended Stay America – Your Home Away From Home (…Maybe?)
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because I’m about to spill the tea on Extended Stay America in Somerset. Forget the sugar-coated travel brochures; this is the real deal, warts and all. I went, I saw, I… stayed. And now, I’m here to tell you everything. Get ready for a ride.
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Meta Description: Honest review of Extended Stay America in Somerset, NJ. Accessibility, amenities, cleanliness, dining, and room features dissected with a touch of humor and real-world observations. Perfect for travelers looking for a budget-friendly extended stay.
Keywords: Extended Stay America Somerset, NJ, hotel review, extended stay, accessibility, free Wi-Fi, amenities, budget travel, Somerset hotels, pet-friendly (maybe?), clean hotel, dining options, rooms, gym, pool – basically everything that came to mind
Let’s Rip the Band-Aid Off: The "Home Away From Home" Promise… Questionable.
First off, the name. “Your Home Away From Home.” Okay, let’s be real. Unless your home is a slightly sterile, perpetually air-conditioned apartment complex with questionable floral arrangements, that’s a bit of a stretch. But hey, it's a roof, it’s got a bed, and it got a fridge. On a budget. Let's break it down by category, but honestly, sometimes the lines blur, like my memory after a long drive and a dodgy hotel coffee.
Accessibility: Not a Bad Start, But…
Okay, so, accessibility is important. I mean, I don't require full accessibility, but I sure appreciate it being there. Extended Stay America in Somerset, in theory, says they have it. Wheelchair accessible rooms are available. Elevator: Check. Good start! But, I'm always a little skeptical. You know? It's like, "Sure, we say it's accessible… but is the ramp a death trap? Are the bathroom doors wide enough?" So, a hearty "maybe" on this one, you might want to double check.
On-site accessible restaurants / lounges: Nope. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Which, given the extended-stay vibe, isn't exactly shocking. The focus is more on self-catering, and the kitchenette in the room is key to your survival.
Internet: The Modern Traveler's SOS Signal
Okay, let's talk about the real essentials. Internet access: Crucial. And Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! Yes, please! (Thank you, gods of the internet!). I, for one, cannot live without internet. I’m addicted to streaming, researching, writing, reading… basically, I do everything online.
The Wi-Fi… was… well, it was there. Some days it was zippy, other days it was… slower than a snail in molasses. I’m talking buffering hell. Internet [LAN] was an option, but who uses LAN anymore? Wi-Fi in public areas? Yes, but I didn't really need it. I just huddled in my room, hoping the signal would cooperate.
Cleanliness and Safety: Sanitized…ish?
This is where things get interesting. Cleanliness and safety: They definitely try. Anti-viral cleaning products? Good! Daily disinfection in common areas? A must! Professional-grade sanitizing services? Sounds impressive! Rooms sanitized between stays – Okay!
But… It’s not always perfect, is it? I mean, I found a stray hair in the bathtub. And I’m fairly certain I saw a questionable stain on the carpet. (Don't judge!) They definitely are trying to make it sanitary, it just wasn't perfect. Room sanitization opt-out available – good to know, though I wouldn't. First aid kit: Probably located at the front desk, not in your room. Hand sanitizer: Probably located at the front desk, not in your room. Hot water linen and laundry washing: Definitely! Hygiene certification: probably. Staff trained in safety protocol: I'd like to think so! Sterilizing equipment: Who knows!
Important Disclaimer - This review is based on my personal experience. Cleanliness is subjective, and honestly, I think this hotel tries. They've got signs up everywhere about COVID protocols.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: The Art of Feeding Yourself
This is where Extended Stay America leans into its "extended stay" identity. Forget Michelin stars. You’re in for the DIY dining experience.
Restaurants: Nope. Again, not surprising. You're on your own. So, you become your own chef.
Kitchenette: (I told you it was key!). Refrigerator, microwave, stovetop (maybe two burners?), basic cookware. If you are willing to cook your own food. (I opted for easy meals with the occasional takeout, and the local delivery services became my best friends).
Breakfast in room: No. Well, technically no, but you can eat things in your room.
Breakfast [buffet, takeaway]: Nope.
Bottle of water: Probably, it's an inexpensive way for the hotel to make money off of an essential.
Snack bar: Uh, no. This place is not fancy. I’m all about the local options, so I'm happy to have this as a base to eat food from the local restaurants.
Services and Conveniences: The Bare Necessities
Okay, let’s be reasonable. It’s not the Four Seasons. But, it’s got the essentials.
Air conditioning in public area: Yes, thankfully. (And in your room, of course, though it sometimes sounded like a jet engine taking off.)
Concierge: Nope. The front desk is your concierge.
Convenience store: No, but a few minutes' walk gets you to a convenience store. Or do your shopping and eat in your suite.
Daily housekeeping: Yes, thankfully. (Though the frequency can vary, depending on your stay duration)
Doorman: Nope.
Elevator: Yes.
Facilities for disabled guests: They say yes.
Food delivery: You're welcome.
Invoice provided: Yes? I believe so.
Laundry service: Yes, not in your room.
Luggage storage: Possibly
Safety deposit boxes: Probably not.
Terrace: No.
For the Kids: Family-Friendly?… Sort Of.
Okay, this is a tough one. Extended Stay America caters more towards extended stays from business traveler. It's not a kids' palace, necessarily.
Babysitting service: Highly unlikely.
Family/child friendly: In theory, yes. Big rooms can accommodate little ones.
Kids meal: HA! (There's no fancy food here).
Access: CCTV in common areas, CCTV outside property, Fire extinguisher, Front desk [24-hour], Hotel chain, Non-smoking rooms, Safety/security feature, Security [24-hour], Smoke alarms. All of these things are provided, that's comforting.
Getting Around: Location, Location, Location?
Airport transfer: Nope.
Car park [free of charge]: Yes! Thank goodness. Taxi service: Yes!.
Available in all rooms
Well, you get the basic essentials:
Additional toilet: No. Air conditioning: Yes, the loud kind. Alarm clock: Yes, probably. Bathtub: Yes. Coffee/tea maker: Yes, the cheap kind. Complimentary tea: No. Daily housekeeping: Yes, but the frequency can vary. Desk: Yes. Extra long bed: Yes. Free bottled water: No. Hair dryer: Probably. High floor: Maybe. In-room safe box: Maybe. Internet access – LAN: Yes! (But why?) Internet access – wireless: Yes! (Hallelujah!) Ironing facilities: Yes! Laptop workspace: Yes. Linens: Yes. Mini bar: No. Mirror: Yes. Non-smoking: Yes. Private bathroom: Yes. Refrigerator: Yes. Satellite/cable channels: Yes. Seating area: Yes. Separate shower/bathtub: Yes. Shower: Yes. Smoke detector: Yes. Soundproofing: Probably not. Telephone: Yes. Toiletries: Yes. Towels: Yes. Wake-up service: Yes. Wi-Fi [free]: Yes!
The Verdict: Budget-Friendly, But Manage Your Expectations
Alright, let's be honest. Extended Stay America in Somerset is… fine. It’s not going to blow your mind. It's a solid choice if you need a place to stay for an extended period. It's clean enough, it’s got the basics, and it doesn’t break the bank.
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Alright, buckle up buttercups, because THIS itinerary ain’t your grandma’s cookie-cutter trip planner. We’re talking Extended Stay America in Somerset, New Jersey, where dreams go to… well, stay extended. And let me tell you, after living in a place like that for a few weeks (more on that later), you need to have a chaotic plan to survive.
Extended Stay America - Somerset - Franklin Franklin Township: The Crucible of My Existence (and This Trip)
Day 1: Arrival & Existential Dread (aka "The Settling In")
- 1:00 PM: Touch down at Newark Airport (EWR). Immediately regret not packing a decent power adapter. Swear I'll learn for next time. Sigh.
- 2:00 PM: Uber to Extended Stay. The driver smells suspiciously of stale coffee and regret. I relate.
- 2:30 PM: Check-in. The front desk person is a blur of nametag and weary eyes. They hand me the key, tell me about the complimentary (gag) "breakfast," and my soul slowly begins to unravel.
- 3:00 PM: Unpack. Discover the "view" from my room: a brick wall and a parking lot that looks perpetually rained on. Cue the first existential crisis.
- 3:30 PM: Explore the "kitchenette." Microwave, mini-fridge… and a profound lack of… well, everything. Realize I'm going to be eating instant ramen for the next month, or until I can find a good grocery store. The excitement is palpable.
- 4:00 PM: The first attempt at a grocery run. Drive down a road that looks like it was created by a drunk engineer. Get hopelessly lost, end up in a 7-Eleven. Buy a sad-looking sandwich and a giant bag of chips. This is freedom.
- 5:00 PM: Attempt to watch TV. Discover 10 channels – six of which are about religious programming and a channel that plays the exact same episode of “Forensic Files” on repeat. Seriously, this is my entertainment? Start questioning my life choices.
- 7:00 PM: Dinner – or, as it’s known now, "The Ramen Ritual." Contemplate the meaning of life while slurping slightly soggy noodles.
- 8:00 PM: Stare at the brick wall. Realize I'm already starting to become the brick wall.
Day 2: The Quest for Decent Coffee & The Great Bed Bug Scare (Maybe)
- 7:00 AM: Wake up to the glorious sound of the air conditioning unit sounding like a dying walrus. It's my favourite alarm clock.
- 7:30 AM: Venture into the dreaded "complimentary breakfast" zone. It’s worse than I imagined. Cardboard cereal? Stale muffins? The coffee tastes like motor oil and regret. I make a strategic retreat.
- 8:00 AM: Coffee Hunt Part 1. Drive to a Dunkin'. Get stuck in insane traffic. Feel my blood pressure rising. Fail.
- 9:00 AM: Coffee Hunt Part 2. Drive to a Starbucks. Achieve success (mostly). The caffeine jolt is essential for survival. Take copious notes on how much everything is costing me.
- 10:00 AM: Settle in to work. Stare at the computer for an hour and get almost nothing useful done.
- 12:00 PM: Work-related task forces a shift to nearby area.
- 3:00 PM: "Bed Bug Episode." Start scratching. Get increasingly paranoid about every tiny itch. Google "bed bug bite identification." Terrified, but also strangely intrigued. Did those tiny bugs see me?
- 4:00 PM: Inspect the mattress, the bed frame, the tiny kitchenette. Find nothing. Breathe a sigh of relief (maybe) and realize I've become the paranoid protagonist in a horror movie of my own making.
- 6:00 PM: Reward myself with a pizza delivery. The pizza guy looks like he's seen things. He’s probably had a few Extended Stay experiences too.
- 7:00 PM: Eat the pizza in front of "Forensic Files." Life is a beautiful, messy paradox!
Day 3: The Shopping Mall of Doom & A Moment of Actual Joy (Maybe)
- 9:00 AM: Drag myself out of bed. The bed doesn't seem infested, but I'm still sleeping with one eye open and a healthy dose of suspicion.
- 10:00 AM: Attempt to navigate the local shopping mall. Get completely lost in a labyrinth of stores. Encounter a woman who insists on sharing her life story (which involves a divorce, a pyramid scheme, and a questionable taste in leopard print). Escape.
- 12:00 PM: Lunch at the mall food court. The quality is… questionable. Observe the human condition unfolding around me. Feel a fleeting sense of connection to the weary souls around me.
- 2:00 PM: The "miracle" of a clean laundromat in the hotel. Discover the joy of clean clothes and the existential dread of folding them.
- 4:00 PM: Find a decent park? Maybe, I’ll venture out for some fresh air and attempt to be a normal human being.
- 6:00 PM: The Great Netflix binge. The only thing that will save me from my own thoughts.
- 8:00 PM: Contemplate packing up my things and fleeing the state. Decide to watch one more episode.
(Days 4-14ish): The Extended Stay Survival Guide - A Stream of Messy Consciousness
(Because let's be honest, after a few days, the days blur together, and you're living in a state of perpetual low-level anxiety.)
- The Routine: Wake up. Caffeine injection. Work. Eat something vaguely edible. Netflix. Repeat. Occasional bouts of existential panic.
- The "Breakfast" Blues: Develop a complex relationship with the "complimentary" breakfast. Alternate between horrified disgust and begrudging acceptance. Learn the art of the "speed-eat" – consume everything fast, before doubt settles in.
- The Laundry Wars: Become obsessed with laundry. The act of washing and folding becomes a meditative experience and a powerful metaphor about life and its many messy cycles.
- The Gym (Or Lack Thereof): Vow to go to the hotel gym. Never actually go. Just… can’t.
- The Social Life (Or Lack Thereof): Strike up awkward conversations with other Extended Stay residents. Discover they're all running from something. You're all running from something.
- The Search for Meaning: Spend countless hours staring out the window, pondering the meaning of life (or at least, the meaning of this hotel).
- The Occasional Escape: Venture to… a grocery store? A new park? An attempt at a local restaurant that ends up being "meh" or "terrible"?
- The Emotional Rollercoaster: Experience moments of crushing despair, interspersed with fleeting moments of joy (usually triggered by a perfectly brewed cup of coffee or a particularly good pizza).
- The Deepening Paranoia: Develop a profound suspicion of everything and everyone. Start imagining the hotel is spying on you.
- The Acceptance: Slowly, surely, you start to realize… you're not alone. Everyone in this place is a little bit broken, a little bit lost, and a little bit desperate for a decent cup of coffee. And that, my friends, is the beauty of it all. Or, you know, whatever passes for beauty in a Extended Stay America.
Day 15 (Departure – The Glorious Escape!)
- 7:00 AM: Wake up to the sweetest sound in the world: the knowledge that I'm leaving.
- 8:00 AM: Consume the last of the "complimentary" coffee (with a grimace).
- 9:00 AM: Pack.
- 9:30 AM: Seriously, still packing.
- 10:00 AM: Check out. Breathe in the air. It smells… free.
- 10:30 AM: Take one last look at the Extended Stay. A wave of weird emotions washes over me – relief, a little bit of sadness (because what else am I so well-acquainted with here?), and a profound sense of… well, survival.
- 11:00 AM: Uber back to the airport. The driver this time smells of… nothing. Or maybe just mild disinfectant and quiet desperation. I get it.
- 12:00 PM: Board the plane. The adventure is over.
- After: Promise myself I'll never stay in an Extended Stay America again. (Probably lie to myself and stay in one again someday.)
- (And here’s where the "Extended" part really hits you. The memories and the lingering sense of dread… that’ll hang around for months.)
This, my friends, is not just an itinerary. It’s a journey into the heart of Extended
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So, "Escape to Somerset" – Sounds fancy. Is it *actually* an escape?
Honestly? It depends. Depends on your definition of "escape." If your definition involves escaping the screaming kids, the mountain of laundry, and that never-ending email chain? Yeah, maybe. Especially if those screaming kids are *yours*. I remember one time, trying to book a hotel after a particularly brutal week with my kids (don't even ASK). Just wanted to *breathe*. Found this place, and the "escape" part… well, it was more like a temporary respite from the chaos. Think of it like this: it's a clean, quiet(ish) box. You can *choose* to fill it with zen, or with takeout menus and late-night TV. Your call. And sometimes, that choice *is* the escape.
What's the deal *really* with the kitchenettes? Are they, like, actually *usable*?
Okay, let's be honest. Kitchenettes in budget hotels are… a gamble. The ones at Somerset, though? Okay, *mostly* usable. I’ve seen worse. I once stayed in a place where “kitchenette” translated to ‘rusty microwave and a communal sink that looked like it hadn't seen soap since the Clinton administration.’ (I'm dating myself, I know). Somerset? You usually get a fridge (crucial!), a microwave (essential), a stovetop (potentially dangerous, depends on your cooking skills), and some basic utensils. They *usually* have a coffee maker. Thank GOD for that. A coffee-fueled morning in a hotel room? That’s a mini-escape in itself. Just…inspect the cookware first. And maybe bring your own spatula. You can never be too careful.
Is it *clean*? Like, *actually* clean? Because I’m a germaphobe. (Sort of.)
Look, here's the thing. Hotels are inherently…suspect. Thousands of people have occupied that space. The cleanliness at Somerset is typically... decent. Probably cleaner than your average teenager's bedroom. (Sorry, kids, it's true!). I’ve found stray hairs (ew), and I’ve seen spots on the carpet that I *really* didn't want to think about. But generally, the rooms are presentable. I always travel with Clorox wipes. Always. Wipe down the remote control. Wipe down *everything*. It's just… peace of mind, you know? And honestly, after wiping down the remote, the room feels cleaner, even if it’s still not spotless. It's a weird mental thing.
What about the location? Is it, you know, *convenient*?
Okay, this is where things get… *location-dependent*. You need to check the specific Somerset you're looking at. Some are tucked away in bustling areas! Some are on the outskirts. Honestly, I once stayed at one that was practically *in* a Walmart parking lot. (Not ideal, unless you’re really into late-night shopping, which, let's face it, can be a thing). Generally, though, they're near major roads, restaurants, and maybe a convenience store. Check Google Maps. Really. Because a convenient location is ESSENTIAL. Because the last thing you want after a long drive is to find yourself in a place with zero access to food, and a 2 AM craving...
Are there any hidden fees or surprises I should know about?
Ah, the dreaded hidden fees. This is where you need to be vigilant. Read the fine print. Seriously. They *usually* don't have insane hidden fees, but always double-check. They might charge extra for pets (if you have them). There could be a "resort fee" (even though it's…a hotel, not a resort). And definitely, *definitely* check the parking situation. Some places charge a fortune. I remember one time, I stayed somewhere and spent more on parking than on the actual room! Lesson learned! Also, keep an eye out for those seemingly small fees like "Early Departure Fees" or "Late Check-Out Fees." Budgeting is KEY!
What's the Wi-Fi like? Because, let's be real, internet is a basic human need.
This is a crapshoot, isn't it? Seriously. The Wi-Fi experience can range from "blissful streaming" to "dial-up circa 1998." It's usually *okay*. But don't expect to upload massive video files quickly. I usually budget for a bit of downtime when I work from a hotel. I once had a *nightmare* experience trying to attend a Zoom meeting from a hotel; the internet was slower than a snail in molasses. I spent the entire time on the phone with tech support. Pure. Agony. So, bring your hotspot, just in case. Trust me. And pray to the internet gods. They're fickle beings.
Is it noisy? Because that's a MAJOR dealbreaker.
Noise. The hotel's arch-nemesis. Look, hotels are full of other humans. Sometimes those humans are having a *party* at 3 AM. Sometimes they're just… *loud*. Walls aren't always the thickest. Earplugs are your friend. White noise machine? Lifesaver. I once stayed in a place next to a fire station. The sirens were relentless. I didn’t sleep the entire time. So, ideally, request a room away from the elevator, the ice machine (always!), or any potential sources of noise. Some places are quieter than others. Really, it's a luck of the draw!
What if something goes wrong? Like, REALLY wrong?
Okay, this is the ultimate test of patience. If something goes wrong, like, the air conditioning craps out at 3 AM, or you find a *thing* in your bed that shouldn’t be there (shudder), then you gotta… *deal*. Call the front desk. Be polite, but firm. Document everything. Take pictures. Record the time, date, and who you spoke to. I once had a plumbing disaster in a hotel room – a total flood! It took hours to sort out and resulted in a relocation. You get what you pay for, and even then, sometimes you just get a *day*. The good news is, Extended Stay America *usually* has a responsive staff. But be prepared to advocate for yourself. And maybe pack a sense of humor. Because sometimes, you just have to laugh or you'll cry. And trust me, I've done both. Several times.
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