One can find rock hard beds and paper thin walls in hotels around the corner and around the world.
The particular hotel I am recalling from a trip to Mexico was one of them. In the evenings I was restricted to watching the t.v. channel my next door neighbors were watching, since I could hear theirs like it was in my lap (they hadn’t cranked the sound). Luckily they watched an English language channel and weren’t channel changers. I won’t even start about what my evening was like once the Shakira concert started in the square outside my hotel!
The bed might as well have been a sheet of plywood (it wasn’t, I checked), for all the cushiness it offered.
Despite these downsides and the echo chamber effect of tile floors in the hallways of the three-floor atrium outside my interior window, I actually liked this hotel. That’s not saying I wouldn’t have stayed at the Ritz if I could have afforded it. But this hotel gave me a different experience of a city than I usually have, so I love it for that.