Så mycket för den fina byggnaden och den Avatar-liknande interiören. Servicen är kaotisk och det skulle inte förvåna mig om det var så avsiktligt för att irritera kunder så att de stannar online och inte kommer tillbaka! …
Så mycket för den fina byggnaden och den Avatar-liknande interiören. Servicen är kaotisk och det skulle inte förvåna mig om det var så avsiktligt för att irritera kunder så att de stannar online och inte kommer tillbaka! …
So much for the nice building and Avatar-esque interior. The service is shambolic and it wouldn’t surprise me if it were so by design in order to exasperate clients so they stay online and don’t come back! Went to change the security pin on my fob and the first biped I encountered had no idea how to do it. He called young Miss Gormless whose pinstriped suit was too ill-fitting for words and the whole ensemble was completed - and worsened - by a pair of high heels she was plainly still negotiating terms with. They both flipped, turned and gawked at the device as if it was a trinket from the treasure chest of Cortez himself. They then nodded to each other as if to say in unison: “We have a code red here, call special agent Kowalski!”. A third spectacled buffoon then turned up to hold and stare at said device, while carrying a clipboard and sporting not one, but two lanyards- incontrovertible proof that he had obtained security clearance to the shredder room AND been granted lift access to the executive bog. Please note that for totally unclear reasons, all three carried open laptops in one hand while they fumbled around. They also beeped their yo-yo tags, keyed countless codes into pads and took scans of fingers and palms to go through doors in what looked like a ritual designed to kill efficiency. You don’t need to be an expert working for Acme Security Doors Ltd. to see that it’s all nonsensical and that the most that can go missing from that office is a stapler. Anyway, after much to-ing and fro-ing Agent Kowalski concluded that the label was worn out and that presented a problem. “It wouldn’t if you’d used better labels or better still, not relied on paper labels at all” - was my reply but that went down like a fart in a church. For Kowalski to be convinced, nothing short of a polygraph combined with waterboarding to prove my identity would do. “How about a biometric passport?”- was my second naive suggestion, which also went down like a shower of sick. I will spare you the rest of the encounter and the consecutive appointment but it is safe to say that a bank is a good as its service and there wasn’t any in sight at SEB. And that shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise with the sort of cobblers they employ there.
Utmärkt och punktlig service med mycket bra kommunikation och resultat. Tvekar inte att rekommendera dem.
A tired place which cashes in on its location. One feels the complacency of the staff; they don’t have to perform, customers will come anyway for the zoo. Its concrete brutalist style makes this place look like a North Korean spa and curiously the main entrance is right next to the services and recycling compactors area. Even locals cannot be so aesthetically anesthetized one thinks but is soon proved wrong by the spartan looks of the African themed lodge rooms (!!! I know). No place to swing a cat in them and you can forget a kettle or indeed toiletries in the bathroom. There is a telephone curiously - to call Central Command perhaps but it doesn’t work. The view over the water is great but it isn’t anything the hotel people built, they only blighted it for the ones living on the opposite side of the bay. Then there is the Afro-North Korean themed spa. Nice but completely disorganised. To get a gown and a key to the lockers, one must first go to a desk by the pool where one needs to be in a gown. How you are supposed to know that is a mystery, especially with the national sport being lack of will to communicate. The Moroccan themed restaurant (it only gets weirder!!!) must have been inspired by the Viking Finland ferry buffet. Spacial awareness and social graces are not Swedish things but spilling liquids without apology definitely is. A hapless waiter (Senad or something – Sinbad, as I called him) stood there staring at the middle distance. He had found his method of coping with it all; sitting people where they least wanted to seat and giving them upturned menus and disappearing before they could say “Excuse me…”. That was the level of engagement from the staff, who as said, couldn’t be bothered. And nor should anybody really. This Finland-ferry-inspired, Moroccan themed, pseudo-African styled, North Korean run place made of brutalist concrete and equally grey service should be given the boot. Unless you are aesthetically anesthetized, and emotionally numbed. Chances are one in 10 million or so.
En riktig soptipp av ett ställe, bara gjort värre av den griniga och oförskämda kvinnan bakom kassan! Överdrivna priser, smutsiga bord, ingen uppfattning om service och en häftig gilla-det-eller-lämna-attityd. Varför oh varför är denna plats fortfarande i affärer!!! Bli inte deras nästa påkörningsoffer.
Inte ett fan av ateljéer men tänkte titta in för att titta, mest av nyfikenhet och för att visa vår lilla pojke hur glas tillverkas. Jag föreställde mig att det här stället skulle vara populärt bland nygifta som vill blåsa sin egen …
Utmärkt service och resultat. Mycket nöjd med resultatet.