History: When a hotel kept killing its most prestigious guests (and almost a President)
I'll take one king-sized room with a spew, please
Imagine a hotel where, instead of a courtesy continental breakfast and those mini shampoo and conditioners, you’re treated to a complimentary bout of infectious diarrhoea instead.
Welcome to the National Hotel in Washington DC, offering abdominal cramps, inflammation of the large intestine, a swollen tongue and violent D&V with every stay.
