Let's begin with the condo itself. Heavily lived in, shower leak, tattered furniture, TV technology from 2005 and weak wifi when either of them worked at all. There is no luggage rack, but the bedding is all white which would leave you to put your suitcases on the floor. The patio is so packed with furniture and pool toys, and the out door furniture is on par with the lazyboyz indoors that even if there weren't a gaggle of unsavories blasting music, you really don't want to sit out there anyway because it's not comfortable. Everything, whether it is or not, feels dirty and over lived in.
The white noise in the condo is deafening from the blare of the dehumidifiers, to the random whistling hum of the ice maker. The beds are very uncomfortable, the pillows, aka slabs of thin rubber, are so bad I slept every night without one at all, and the sheets are some kind of poly nylon mix that is unfit for humans. Which brings me to the neighbors who poisoned the relaxing beach air with daily and nightly country and classic rock music that was so loud, I could hear it both through my earbuds (essential if you stay here) and over the TV which I turned up to 60. Had the coffee pot, at the very least, been newer than sometime in the 90's I might have been able to muddle through the worst vacation since my 20's when I had no money and had to stay in a nightmare place like as bad as this but much cheaper. Summer House is your own private rodeo.