Premier Inn London Ruislip hotel in Hillingdon

Such lovely staff, very helpful, welcoming, will help with luggage too. Genuine friendly polite staffing. Feel safe staying here. The one complaint is pillows are awful need some plump up ones. I have to bring my own which means extra baggage. I have been visiting for years now. The other thing is the loss of the pub was so convenient for breakfast and dinner now closed down.

The pictures on google are absolutely false. This place was god awful and i stayed with two infant children. A travel cot was given and would not open and fix on the one side. The entire place was filthy and the bedsheets stank so bad my head began to hurt. Both me and my mother in law were left disgusted. The young boy at the front desk who helped us check in was really helpful. Ashame he works for such a rundown hotel. Does not look like the pictures advertised at all and for 134 pound for the nighht really not to that standard!!!

This review is based on the White Bear public house as the Beefeater situated within the premise of hotel was closed... Tuck yourself in and sit tight... Once upon a time there was a young girl named Syd who yearned to be an adult influencer when she grew up. Despite owning a Nokia brick and having zero Internet access, unlike her friends, to the daily trends of TokTik she desperately wanted to leave the local area of Ruislip which had become run down, plentiful in discarded condoms, chewing gum and stinking of turps. Syd never knew her parents as a young child she had been raised by a group of 6, heavily alcohol dependant Dendrobranchiata, AKA prawns related to the King of the sewer. Over the years, she had questions about their interests and exponentially grew doubt over their fascination of microwaving excrement. When bathing they were unusually adamant on a preferred and optimal pH level between 6.5 and 9.0. This didn't discourage Syds love for her squidlike parents and she remained forever grateful for their commitment to raise her, even with their creapy skinny prepubescent finger like whisks. The norm all changed after one day returning to her home from a long shift at Ladbrokes; wreaking of copper coins, Menthol and cotton candy biftas. Not only were the IKEA chairs at the kitchen table broken, not only was her bunk bed broken, not only was all the Quaker creamy and stodgy porridge eaten, but so too, the weekday Aldi shopping list and funds she had left for her crustacean family to pickup for her. On the barren table was no black rice with prawn bisque, no braised peas and broad beans, piquillo peppers or a tasty meal so she made it so. The 6 x Dendrobranchiata never did do her so wrongly again. The End.