Hotel breakfasts rule. You don’t have to make them, and you don’t have to wash up after yourself either.
What’s this? I’m not annoyed this evening? Perhaps the mediocrity of this hotel has bludgeoned me so much that I can no longer differentiate between “good” and “woeful”.
In the interests of balancing things out somewhat, the vindaloo I chose at dinner this evening bore about as much resemblance to it’s label as a tin of mince and big soup mixed together with a spoon or two of crushed chillies.
So there you go - I’ve covered the good and the awful for another post, so will move on to complain about something else.
How about the failings of the 3G network? Despite a full 3G signal, Vodafone and their HSUPA modem still cannot deliver voice and video on Skype. You can have zoetrope style video, and staccato sound, or no connection at all. It’s excellent.
I really should stop complaining about things.
Work is going well. Although I must not write about the exact nature of my work, or who it is with, I can probably relate the glee with which I received my security pass this morning - meaning I can now wander the client site without being escorted. It’s only when you’ve been escorted to the bathroom that you realise what freedom really means.
I’m listening to Kate Rusby this evening - piped into my ears via the iPod Nano, which sits in the hand-knitted cover W made me the night before I left. I must remember to photograph it in daylight - it’s excellent (and far better than the official Apple sock - W’s version has a discreet button to stop it falling out, and was of course made to my chosen colours.
You only get one biscuit per day on the tray in your room in this hotel. How frugal is that?
Note to self - regardless of where the hotel is next week, I MUST bring my own biscuits, coffee, and/or chocolate with me.
If you’re wondering about the title of this post, I’m beginning to think of this hotel like it’s famous family heiress - it looks good from the outside, but once you’ve been inside, you realise how shallow, soulless and truly vacuous it is.