It’s half term in the UK and so no school visits. A whole week of writing. (Hurrah!) The good news is I’ve finally worked out how to revise “The Story” (see earlier blogs) to make it (hopefully) work.
I was at a school in Wakefield, Yorkshire on Friday. I stayed in a very interesting hotel. The lift was covered in pine tongue and groove, fitted by some drunk TV presenters on a makeover show I think. The neon light was jammed in place with a strip of wood. And the little metal plate that tells you the floor you’re on had been stuck directly on to the wood over the door. It wasn’t connected to anything.
There was also no remote control for the TV. But the TV didn’t have the programmes that the brochure claimed anyway, so that was okay. No Sky Sports channels. I asked the guy at reception for a new remote and he said, Well, some of the rooms don’t have them because people take them. That’s okay then.
The soap dispenser came off in my hand. How I chuckled. Maybe I’d strayed into a cartoon hotel.
It was so shabby and dowdy. I didn’t eat in the dark and gloomy restaurant. I found a very nice Italian restaurant instead. But I did eat my breakfast there.
After breakfast I was waiting for the lift to come – I’d only been waiting about five minutes – when I fell into conversation with a couple. He said, I think we’re in the hotel California. I said I hope not. I want to leave.