|Team in training|
We are not loving our hotel; it is actually pretty dreadful - which translates into comical. The door of the bathroom barely clears the toilet (so thankful for the western toilet) and the counter so you have to bend like a pretzel just to get in behind the door to close it. If I continue on my current path of snack food (that I brought along), me and the bathroom might soon not be a good fit.
The beds are three quarter width and as "firm" as a slab of rock. There is no box-spring, just a low wooden frame mounted with a vintage coiled mattress. I found an extra down duvet in the closet and used it as a mattress topper to help soften the impact. Hubby insisted he didn't need it (but I think he has since changed his mind) but his bed is worse -- and very musical. Whenever he rolled in a certain direction, a loose spring in the bed would vibrate like a guitar string - I think in the key of G. I actually laughed out loud in the middle of the night. It all struck me as surreal.
The bathroom door is a little thin and lacking in privacy so when hubby heads in there, I pump up the volume on my favourite Chinese soap opera that features a female Kung Fu fighter. That all wouldn't be so back except for the window in our room that doesn't quite shut and the traffic below that honks and hums all night long. Ther is a steady stream of cold from the window and when the indoor cigarette smoke coming from the vents got more than I could take, and I opened it wider for some fresh air - it turned out to be "not fresher".
I took a shower and washed my hair and headed down to the lobby suit store (yup) to buy a bottle of local water to use for brushing my teeth. On the way back up I waited for the elevator door to open and a guy walked out, butting his cigarette just outside the door. Needless to say I smelled like a tart from the local honky tonk by the time I got back to my room.
And to top it all off -- there is no way to chill my Pinot Grigio as the hotel doesn't have an ice machine.
That being said, these experiences are all a part of international travel - eating new and different foods and sleeping in beds built for smaller people. In my experience, it is the challenges and uncomfortable moments that make the best stories and lasting memories - and that is my mantra of encouragement to hubby.
The evil side of me watches in amusement as hubby attempts to navigate the breakfast buffet. And so it goes.
|Hubby's breakfast of rice and eggs and steamed bread.|
|Remnants from my breakfast of sweet potato, egg, sausage and toast.|