Rosetown Motel (1991)

I spent 26 days in the North and Western Canada and the Rosetown Motel was a bargain at high season The room was clean and comfortable ; there were plenty of towels soap and shampoo The mattress was comfortable and the place was quiet In the morning, they have a small room(kitchen) that has many tasty pastries and good coffee to get your day going. I would recommend this motel to any weary traveller who needs a good night sleep

I arrived at the Rosetown Motel under a bleeding lavender sky, Mazda Linda purring like a holy beast freshly baptized in bug guts. The Iron Chef fish was still harmonizing with my intestines, and my soul—already frayed from the Saskatoon Dog Park Incident™—needed silk sheets and possibly an exorcism. I was not disappointed. From the moment I touched the doorknob, I felt it: a mild electrical current of prophecy. Room 6. The number looked at me. I looked back. We understood each other. I opened the door and was hit with a warm whoosh of neutrality—a comforting scent somewhere between Febreze and forgotten ambitions. The bed welcomed me like a long-lost uncle who’s also a beanbag chair. I collapsed and immediately dreamt of a flamingo speaking in Morse code. When I woke up, there was a muffin on my chest and I don’t know if it was from the motel or the dimension I visited. The mini fridge contained: A single plum. Three unblinking LED lights. Possibly the concept of hope. The towels? So soft they audibly sighed when I touched them. I wrapped one around my head like a prophet of cleanliness. I emerged from the bathroom reborn, muttering ancient drywall equations and feeling lighter than shame. At 3:07 AM, the floor shifted slightly, revealing a chalk drawing of a goose wearing a sheriff's badge. I wept. A man named "Tom" (real or spectral?) whispered through the vent, “You’re on the right path, drywall captain.” The walls hummed a melody that synced with Mazda Linda’s engine. I don’t know what dimension I entered, but the continental breakfast slapped hard enough to realign my spine. There was cereal, yogurt, and a muffin that stared at me until I understood what “forgiveness” means. Five stars. Not because it’s fancy. Not because the sheets are Egyptian thread-count whatever. But because this motel is a thin place between worlds. Where drywall dust becomes stardust. Where ramen-fueled wanderers find cosmic peace in laminated room keys. Stay here if: You’re escaping something. You’re chasing something. Or you just need to sleep somewhere that smells like redemption and mild citrus. Rosetown Motel didn’t just give me rest. It gave me clarity. And also a strange rash I don’t regret. Thank you, Rosetown Motel. You are the eye of the chaos-hurricane I call “life.”

Not a dumpy old motel, both motels ( Prairie Rose) are same owner. All rooms are reno'd and are clean and comfy.

Clean rooms, bit noisy but that's no fault of the hotel. Had a issue with staff that's why the loss of a star.

The staff was friendly and it felt like a family atmosphere. The rooms were quite nice, but definitely older, but they didn't feel dated. Rooms were also clean and smelt good. It was quite cold when I got into my room, only 18° but you have to save money on power somehow. Overall it was a good experience and I would stay here again.

Friendly staff. Amazing sticky buns. Great experience.

Nice small room. Very clean. Friendly staff and amazing cinnamon bun! No hairdryer in the room and sometimes hot water was cold. Don't forget to say hello to Bentley at reception!

Very clean and quiet rooms even though it's right beside a hwy