Thursday, 5 May 2011

Travelodge - City Road, London. Not Priceless

A room that smells of piss, a bath only big enough for my feet, a room key that wouldn't work, 'orrible young people and ladies of negotiable affection being in the - I use the term loosely - hotel, not having my phone charger, taps that give me a shower when I want to turn them off, boarded up slums outside my window, utter shite on the telly, and internet connection form the darkest days of dialup, one of the nastiest pubs and a Tesco's Express outside... all these things, and so many more, make this quite possibly, not in the least priceless.

At least I'm not paying for it... ;-)

That and the Tesco's Express selling pre-mixed JD and coke, minus the calls from work as something died yesterday, means that I'm not an overly happy camper!

Still, the AWS Deep Dive training means that I'm not terminally suicidal!

1 comment:

  1. It actually got worse.

    Got woken at some late hour by one of the reception staff asking if there was a fire in my room... I assured him that there wasn't and invited him in to check - which he declined to do. He did, however, say that the fire alarm had sounded in the corridor where my room was and I pointed out that there was a strong smell of cigarette smoke in the corridor. He wandered off and I started fretting about burning to death in my sleep so found it problematic getting back off to the land of nod.

    After finally dropping off I was woken again by another member of staff knocking on the door of a room near mine shouting, "Reception". After about 10 minutes someone answered and was accused of smoking in his room (I think he must have been as I could smell the smoke in my room when he opened his).

    I tried again to sleep but by this point I was gagging for a fag myself so, after figuring that most people would be off the streets now so I could wander outside feeling reasonably safe, I went downstairs for a fag. After managing to figure out how to leave the front door I found two Rastafarians outside wearing construction helmets smoking a huge dooby and calling every woman walking past, "Darling".

    This was all getting far too odd for a poor old Yorkshireman to figure out so I went back to my room and worked until I started seeing double, at which point I slept for another hour and a half before having to get up.
    Breakfast was grim and when I tried to tell the member of staff on reception that I'd had a pretty crap night she looked back at her computer screen and said, "Sorry". I'm not sure how I was supposed to reply when she asked if I'd had a good night...?