Michael Barker's Blog - Posts Tagged "travel"
An unwanted talent
Anyone who’s aware of my almost supernatural gift for selecting appalling hotels to stay at may wish to put their head in their hands round about now.
So I turned up to this place tonight – stepping over a rather dangerous looking electric saw lying idle at the reception – before being given my room key. In I went, and to be fair, everything one requires for a few hours slumber was there: two beds, sheets, a night table. Just a pity it was all still bagged and boxed, piled up to the ceiling and covered in dust. If I’d fancied spending the night next to flat-packed furniture, I would have had a lie down near the tills at Ikea, I informed the rather forlorn gentleman at reception.
But worry not, he gave me a new room, and stone me if I hadn’t been upgraded from a coffin to a place where I could almost stretch out both arms without touching the two walls. This was the kind of grandeur I could get used to. And the good news just kept on coming – I had my very own window out onto the corridor in front of the bed, my enthusiasm for which was only marginally dampened by the fact there was absolutely nothing in the way of a blind to stop passers by from having a good gawp inside.
No problem, I thought to myself, I’ll take refuge in the bathroom. The receptionist had taken great pride in telling me about the noise-activated lighting system. Not for this hotel a simple light switch! I might marvel at such technology in situations where – I wish I was making this up, but I’m not – I didn’t have to clap every seven seconds to stop the room plunging into complete darkness. Brings an extra edge to singing in the shower, let me tell you.
But enough about all this. I need to get back to constructing a curtain for my window out of flannel-sized towels.
Someone, somewhere is saying “I told you so”.
The Improbable Tale of How I Saved the Universe
So I turned up to this place tonight – stepping over a rather dangerous looking electric saw lying idle at the reception – before being given my room key. In I went, and to be fair, everything one requires for a few hours slumber was there: two beds, sheets, a night table. Just a pity it was all still bagged and boxed, piled up to the ceiling and covered in dust. If I’d fancied spending the night next to flat-packed furniture, I would have had a lie down near the tills at Ikea, I informed the rather forlorn gentleman at reception.
But worry not, he gave me a new room, and stone me if I hadn’t been upgraded from a coffin to a place where I could almost stretch out both arms without touching the two walls. This was the kind of grandeur I could get used to. And the good news just kept on coming – I had my very own window out onto the corridor in front of the bed, my enthusiasm for which was only marginally dampened by the fact there was absolutely nothing in the way of a blind to stop passers by from having a good gawp inside.
No problem, I thought to myself, I’ll take refuge in the bathroom. The receptionist had taken great pride in telling me about the noise-activated lighting system. Not for this hotel a simple light switch! I might marvel at such technology in situations where – I wish I was making this up, but I’m not – I didn’t have to clap every seven seconds to stop the room plunging into complete darkness. Brings an extra edge to singing in the shower, let me tell you.
But enough about all this. I need to get back to constructing a curtain for my window out of flannel-sized towels.
Someone, somewhere is saying “I told you so”.
The Improbable Tale of How I Saved the Universe
