Bayway Inn

Long story short. I checked in and left within 20 minutes. Bed was broken and found underwear and rat poop on the floor. No refund

Very nice and clean motel close to the beaches I would recommend staying here if you are planning a trip to St Pete

So my grandma died last week. It’s OK– she was 80 and ready to go, and passed away very peacefully. I booked a quick flight and the next day, I was in St Petersburg, where my father and stepmother were already staying at my grandfather’s condo. It soon became clear to me that my place to stay was on the couch. In a 2 bedroom condo with 3 other family members. I am 38 years old. No, no, no, no.
I quickly got on my grandpa’s computer and found the closest hotel I could afford. The Bayway. Say it. It’s fun. «Bayway.»
The Bayway Inn is your standard cheap but clean enough hotel off a major freeway. My room had tacky old maroon carpet, a tackier thin scratchy floral bedspread, and a small TV in the corner. Being Florida, it also had a small decent pool (that I never swam in) with an upper deck and lots of palm trees and other tropical flora surrounding.
The proprietors were an older Indian (I think) couple, and their English was not strong, so each communication and transaction was a bit confusing, and they bickered among themselves in the process. But they were also incredibly sweet and accomodating.
This isn’t really a review of a cheap motel so much as a reflection on my time in Florida, and the nurturing aspect of acting like an adult and paying for your own space, even when you can’t really afford it.
After days with my family, I was more than ready to pull my grandma’s old Subaru station wagon up to room #102. I spent my evenings watching HBO, and going to the upper deck, smoking, drinking Heineken, and watching the traffic go by, reflecting on life, death, and family. And the Bayway, unlike a distractingly cushy hotel, was a comfortable setting for this profound trip.