As one would guess from the photo of the old-fashioned sign (it proclaims the rooms are "refrigerated") this is a classic motel from the golden days of motoring. The friendly proprietor told me it was built in 1938 or so. At the front desk there's an antique gizmo that lets you turn a knob to select a destination, after which it shows you a list of highway numbers to take to reach that destination (no interstates, of course) and a motel to stay at when you get there. The small rooms are arranged in a horseshoe, with a pair of carports between each pair of rooms. Each room has both a number and a name. Inside, the plaster walls of our room looked like wallpaper, but close examination showed that someone had lovingly hand-applied paint through a stencil to create that effect. The doorway to the shower was narrow with an old-fashioned arch; the tile looked like grandma's bathroom.
Alas, the place is shabby: holes in the screens, cardboard cartons left lying in the carports, extra furniture piled up in one of the carports, bathroom floors repaired with patches of non-matching linoleum, lumpy pillows, aging outdoor furniture on the porch outside the doors to the rooms. A late-night conversation in an adjacent room was not very well muffled. The modern air conditioner, fridge and microwave worked fine for us, as did the plumbing, but all in all it was hard to think about "the good old days" as opposed to "this place has seen better days."