Old Orchard Beach Inn

I’m torn between giving them 3 versus 4 stars so I will do 3.5. This place is very cute and quaint on the outside and they seem like nice hard working people. But there’s so much they could do to improve on things that would make this place awesome!
First of all, the fact that this b&b is from the 1700’s is just amazing. I totally respect antique things but there’s a big difference between antique and just plain outdated old things. The pillows were awful. Flat and smelled a little funny. The bedsheets along with the matress were not impressive either. Those are the main important things for a b&b! My room was also decorated with plastic flowers all over the place… felt like I was at a grandmas house.
Other than those things the breakfast was very good. I’m not sure what others are expecting but there was a good variety of yogurt, fruit, bagels, cereals, eggs and some other stuff I thought was a good layout.
The location is awesome too just across the street from the pier and the beach.
I will most likely not be back though cuz beds are very important to me but maybe the other rooms are better!

Great location, clean room. Breakfast was disappointing: (toast, bagels, yogurt, cereal and hard boiled eggs) Nice to snack outside for breakfast on a large terrace. You would be able to walk to the main drag at Old Orchard Beach, no need to drive. Not one of my favorite Inn’s, overall look «a little ratty». We would stay again for the price and location.

This place in quintessential New England Inn. Amazing location, great porch complete with bunting and rocking chairs, and a lovely inn keeper couple who truly made us feel welcome. I really wish I could have given this place 5 stars but the bed was extremely uncomfortable! Pretty sure it’s the very same mattress Benedict Arnold slept on when he used to summer at the pier and frequent Joeyoke.

I have no problem with idiots. I myself am a strange person.
Many years I have summered in Maine, America’s Place of Succor. The lakes. The sky. The land. The friendly people and their scary eyes. This year my family and I decided to throw ourselves for a loop and make a quick stop over in OOB (Old Orchard Beach). It was a beach. It’s near Portland, the airport of our arrival. Simplicity is never of the essence but it sure can solve of a problem.
This is a review of business, not a place, or an idea. I feel it my duty to inform those of you not overly familiar with the state that OOB is not your mother, your father’s, your granddaddy’s, or even your long-​lost government’s Maine. OOB is part Jersey Shore, part monster movie, part forbidden dance known only to the shirtless and vague. OOB is a party that doesn’t stop, even when the floor gets slippery. And that’s before the neon starts pumping. Pumping. Hard.
I understand fully, then, how it is that the historic Old Orchard Beach Inn would strive to keep itself above the fray, in order to ensnare snobby and unsuspecting customers such as myself. Let’s face it, I’m fancy and can’t stand most of you. You will expire and I will be great. I like old hotels that cost too much and give you less for more. The bargain websites drove me to the OOBI and I instinctively threw myself upon it. Solutions abound!
Unfortunately, while OOBI is indeed two kinds of historic, creaking under its own weight and infernal lost thoughts, it’s also a place by the beach in this Place Called Trounce. It wants to be better and be more but come on, you’re peddling silk in the bowels of a possum. This dynamic is wholly familiar to anyone who has spent extensive time studying how the lower classes are divided and conquered by the moneyed hands of capitalism. Did I mention I am supreme?
From where does this anger come? Who saves evidence for the bath and plunges first into the toilet of the mind? Someone with an ace in the hole. Watch out for narrative:
Owing to the cruelties of airline travel, my family, which now includes a toddler, flew a red-​eye from Oregon to Maine. We were tired. We asked these people, these owners of this inn, if we could check in early to sleep. First I tried by phone. Then in person once we were there. The answer was maybe, if a room opened up. So we went to sleep in the car in the lot.
THEY WERE APPALLED LIKE BANDITS DEAD IN THE STREET.
In OOB, it costs $ 10 to park by the beach for the privilege of doing erotic business on its shores. So no dice being a vagrant in public. We were paying these monsters 15 times that for a room so hey, since there was no elevator and we were on the top floor (HISTORY HAS MADE MISTAKES, LIKE RAYON), let’s kick it in the rental. What did this get us? Gossiped about by the staff. Mocked by the employees. Scorned like a thousand bees whose limbs have been cropped. We never felt comfortable. Things could’ve been different. Instead they were the same.
I made attempts to hint that I was their better, or at least enough adjusted to fine inns that I could sleep in their parking lot without cramping their mission. No response. Flat hard surfaces – at a beach, no less! Every customer was a potential liability. The brand was for them, and a outstretched thumb in the nose of that city. We were just the cannon fodder. They fought every day to stay above the figurative water while being mere feet from the literal water.
The morning we were leaving – it was a brief stay, about 16 hours – I was attempting to give my daughter a glass of milk. Milk. The simplest, most basic and pure thing unto child, even if it is no longer oozing from a mother’s teat. Then thankfully, I used both eyes and not only looked but really saw: The Glass Was Chipped. As in, sharp, jagged edges about to rip apart her sweet face and possibly lead her to a life of shame and premature options. I swatted the glass away, milk flying everywhere and her skin stung without explanation, and marched over to the front desk. I presented this weapon to the owner and said, meaning nothing but help:
«This glass has a chip out of it. I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t want it to end up back in circulation.»
«Oh. Thank you.»
Her face said more. But not enough.
That’s where we are today. You tell me: Where do we go from here?
PS I am pretty sure the wireless doesn’t work. I know the people sure don’t.

I thought this was a great place to stay in Old Orchard, much better than a lot of the other hotels you’ll see along the strip of Old Orchard. Pretty charming place with an «inn» like feel, from the indoor/​outdoor breakfast room to the individual rooms. Breakfast was fine, the staples, from bagles/​toast/​hardboiled eggs to breads. It’s really close to all the stores and there is plenty of parking on-​site. Rocking chairs on the porch to watch the traffic/​pedestrians. Nice staff and I’d go back.

This place really kinda sucks and is by far the worst «Bed & Breakfast» I’ve ever stayed out. Note the quotation marks because this place is more of a hotel with super ugly furnishing, shitty junk in the trunk TV, and a breakfast of toast and hard boiled eggs (i.e. comparable to a Super 8).
There is nothing fancy or even cozy about this place. The staff is not very professional at all. Examples: loud Russian housekeepers squawking away in the hallway at level 10 voices for an hour while you’re trying to sleep &the front desk person did not offer up help when we arrived and had trouble carrying our bags up the stairs (we were on a road trip so we had a lot of stuff). Instead, he sat there playing online blackjack. Lame.
Also, LAME is the breakfast which is why I am super convinced this place is just a old fashioned Days Inn. We were offered toast and hard boiled eggs. Maybe this is how the French Canadians roll? Either way, it sucked. If you’re paying Bed and Breakfast prices you should get a goddamn breakfast. It was August, I could have just left some eggs in the car and ate that.
Additionally LAME were the amenities (or lack there of) which included a 13″ old ass television, no ironing board or iron and small shower. It’s advertised as a nice B&B not camping in the woods so give me something.
Non-​Lame: The location is nice as it’s right down the main street and far enough away from the beach riff raff and they had decent wifi

This B&B is absolutely charming. It’s a 5 minute walk from the pier and beach. About 30 minutes from Ogunquit (one of the cleanest beaches I’ve walked on. It had the most powdery sand), and 25 minutes from Portland.
Walking into the B&B, I already knew I loved the place. It smelled like freshly baked homemade cookies, dim lighting, and 1940s music playing in the background. A few couples were gathered in front on comfy couches chatting quietly over coffee and cookies (which the owner did in fact bake herself).
The staff was both professional and personable. Booking the reservation was easy with Christine, the owner. We looked it up online and told her we wanted the package where we could have the Lighthouse Lovers Cruise and City Trolley Tour. She included that with our room, gave us a discount, and arranged all our tours when we got there. We checked in around 8:45 p.m. (later than we had hoped), and Bill, a manager, kindly called us to ask how we were (he offered directions in case we were lost). He gave us a brief rundown of what we’d need to know in case we got there too late. We ended up making it there soon after the call. After settling in, he showed us where the beach was, and told us what shops and restaurants were nearby.
The continental breakfast was good. I’m not much of a breakfast person myself, so I enjoyed the yogurt, fresh fruit, and granola.
My boyfriend and I came for together for my 23^rd birthday (he is 31). We were the youngest people at the B&B, and we noticed we were much younger than most of the people we met. That didn’t bother us though. It’s definitely not a party scene in Old Orchard Beach, but we did find a nice bar to walk to where we shared some drinks and listened Top 40.