Saturday, 6 August 2011

The butler did it.

I love the first moments in a hotel room.  All the doors and signs and leaflets and hidden things and tiny soaps and shampoos.  Not that I would ever use the shampoos on my expensive hair.

There was a time in my life when I travelled all the time but the first moments of exploration never lost their charm.

There are some rules:

1) The cheaper the hotel the more:
 a) dangerous the room;
b) stupid the guests are anticipated to be;
c) need for signs explaining the danger inherent in every aspect of the room.

2) Regardless of price, all hotel rooms should be judged on the sensitivity of the lighting in the bathroom.

3)  The more expensive the hotel, the less chance there will be a complimentary biscuit to dip in your cuppa, but at least the tea won't be Liptons. 

4)  The cheaper the hotel room the greater the need to reassure us the toilet has been hygienically cleaned and sealed - as if one of those paper strips proves it.  The glasses are also cleaner because they've been wrapped in paper bags.

To explain rule number 1...I'm in a five star hotel room right now.  (Judging by my fellow guests when I checked in, we'd all booked the mystery hotel deal on  I am trusted to operate the kettle, the toaster and even the hairdryer without the need for signs written in 60 point Comic Sans font warning of the potential for my demise if I so much as think of misusing the equipment.  I am even able to operate the "in room climate control" from a panel that looks like it could operate the space shuttle.  I can relax here without the fear of danger lurking in every corner.  No concern about the wrong flush flooding the room.

I don't know about you , but if I'm going to fork out for a nice room, I don't want to see a 180 year old woman under fluorescent light staring at me from the mirror in the stark white bathroom.  A soft golden light that makes me look 17 and in love is what I expect.  I don't think that's too much to ask.

The bathroom in this room is fantastic.  It looks like the set for an Imperial Leather commercial.  There are separate lighting zones - the shower has its own light with a separate switch.  Very relieved there's a telephone right by the loo.  I'll be making all my calls from there - at $50 a minute.  I can also control the volume of the television from the toilet.  I can't actually see it but it's such a relief I'll be able to hear it over the non-environmentally rated shower head which allow me to empty the harbour during my morning ablutions.

Thank goodness they left the door open or I wouldn't have been able to find it.  All the doors are very discreetly designed.

I like a cup of tea.  My preference is for loose leaves in a teapot, but I know that's not going to happen on my budget.  It barely happens in high end restaurants.  As I write I'm enjoying a Twinings English Breakfast tea with those weird little milks.  I'm very happy it's not Liptons (loose leaf pencil shavings in a draw string bag) but I notice there's a not a milk arrowroot to be had with it.  The twin pack of Arnott's bickies seems to be the domain of the country motel.  I have stayed four star where there's a nice macadamia short bread on offer, but rich people clearly don't eat biscuits. 

Then there's the mini bar.  Resembling a shrine where we come to worship the overpriced god of alcohol, soft drink and chips.  Anyone for a $10 beer, $5 Pepsi, $6 packet of chips or a $6 mini Toblerone?  I'll be worshipping without the imbibing as I slip into my robe and wonder how I survive at home.

Must go, the butler just arrived and I need to get him to type this.

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