Hotel horrors

There's nothing quite like the thrill of opening your hotel door for the first time to see what exactly lies behind it. In some cases there should be the inevitable squeak of violins in staccato rhythm (shower curtain optional) as you ease open the door.
All right, so not all hotel stays can be equated to horror movies, but there is a certain element of similarity. The cheerful and bright opening scenes, the venture down long lonely corridors, the creaking of a slowly opened door... not to mention mysterious night-time thuds and bumps. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So there I was all packed off on a business trip and checking into a hotel that would be my home for the next 5 days. All seemed bright and shiny (doesn't it always) in the foyer... and then my first clue - no lift.
No problem, only one floor to go up and I kept a determined smile on my face as I thumped my way up the stairs one at a time. This was due to the rather heavy suitcase I was dragging behind me - yes, I pack like a girl, including my heavy-duty pillow filled with buckwheat. Handy for punching into a sleep-friendly shape and as a last-ditch weapon should anyone sneak up on me. I pity the fool who challenges me to a pillow fight...snigger ::rubs hands together in villainous way::

After hiking down a loooong corridor, I reached the oh-so-innocent door of nr 34. Easing the door open is like unwrapping a gift; would it contain something I wanted or something I'd just be politely thankful for? Would there be a bath & shower? Would it be twin beds or a luxurious double? And probably most importantly... would there be a kettle?!?

Since a trip in Germany where I had to face mornings sans my 1st-thing-in-the-day cuppa, I've been pathetically grateful every time I find a hotel room equipped with basic coffee / tea making equipment. And yes, I did blubber joyfully when I spotted not only one of those cutesy half-sized kettles, but also some decent quality instant coffee, milk & tea!

But I was being lulled into a false sense of joy...

The shower curtain turned out to be just that, offering more the illusion of separation rather than actual water-proofing. I only found that when I stepped out of the bath-tub and into an ankle-deep puddle on the floor. I sincerely hoped the floor was well sealed, and that I hadn't created a water feature in the downstairs room. But my fears were for nothing, as it turned out that my room was directly above a - you'd never guess it - pub! Yes, I kid you not.
I found this out on Wednesday Live Music Night, when the items on my bedside table ever so gently bopped around to 'piano man', 'alice' and probably inevitably... 'Hotel California'. Live music was followed by live entertainment when a full-blown screaming match broke out below the window around closing time. I sure hope poor John finally got rid of Charlotte, whom he apparently just found out had been warming more than just his bed! Admittedly it was a bit hard to garner any sympathy from my side at that time of the morning.

But like all horror movies, my stay also came to an end. After the inevitably nervous scouring of the room to see whether I had somehow left behind anything, I wheeled my suitcase out into the sunrise, ready to brave the next adventure.