"Położenie jest doskonałe, pokój jest większy. Urządzenia i śniadanie są zwykłe."

"Miłe miejsce dość dobre"

"Pokój jest mały, spokojny i bezpieczny."

"To jest sukces, zgoda rodziny. Proszę przyjść następnym razem."

"Miło było podróżować do Bagdadu."

"The room is nice. The lobby and other facilities are also pleasant. Nothing to complain. The receptionists and the cleaning ladies are very nice and helpful."

"Dobry hotel"

"Coral Palace: The Hotel That Forgot It’s a Hotel Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Coral Palace—where the only thing "palatial" is the level of incompetence. A hotel in name only, with service that makes a roadside café look like The Ritz. I spent two and a half years in this place, and let me tell you, I’ve seen five-star service turn into a one-star horror show faster than a bad Tinder date. When I first arrived, the GM was Mr. Salwan—a real hotelier. Charismatic, professional, and someone who knew the difference between a guest and a houseplant. Then came the disaster of the decade. The owners, who are usually fantastic decision-makers, made one epic mistake that will go down in the history books—hiring Ms. Ahlam, a GM so wildly out of her depth, she’s basically scuba diving without oxygen. Let’s be real—hospitality isn't her thing. In fact, I wouldn’t even trust her to run a lemonade stand, let alone a hotel. If we’re talking career paths, she’d probably be better suited to giving foot rubs and trimming nails—that’s if she could figure out which end of the nail file to use. Since her royal disaster took over, the service has gone from "acceptable" to "please send the Red Cross." Marketing plan? Nope. Hygiene standards? A complete mystery. The only plan in action seems to be overworking the staff until they collapse. You’ve got waiters running around like they’re in The Hunger Games, while captains and supervisors stand around like fancy statues from an ancient civilization. The food? Surprisingly good. The service? Slower than dial-up internet in the 90s. And Ms. Ahlam? Managing a hotel the way a chicken manages a space station. If I were Mr. Wisam, I’d personally escort her to the smallest door possible and let her take her talents elsewhere—maybe a restaurant that specializes in terrible service and unnecessary Botox. Because let’s be honest, there’s not enough fillers in the world to cover up the mess she’s made of this place. Coral Palace? More like Coral Disaster. More to come from this soap opera... Just cant forget the botox and fillers and not feel I want to vomit"

"Rzadko piszę recenzje, ale ten hotel jest naprawdę dobry i zasługuje na miano pierwszego wyboru dla przyjaciół podróżujących do Iranu! Lokalizacja jest bardzo wygodna, z pełnym zapleczem wokół. Trzy chińskie posiłki są serwowane każdego dnia, co w pełni zaspokaja mój chiński żołądek. Pokój jest wygodny i ciepły. Personel hotelu jest bardzo ciepły i troskliwy. Zawsze mogą zaspokoić moje potrzeby w pierwszy raz. Hotel jest tuż naprzeciwko. Jest duży parking, zadowalający, bardzo polecam!"