Posts Tagged ‘hotel’

3rd Law Part 32 – posh hotels and coal mines

Monday, May 27th, 2013

I’ve stayed in a few nice hotels around the world in my time. There was one I stayed at in Taipei where every room was actually a suite and you could take two interconnecting suites if you needed more space for the family. I can’t remember what it was called now. It had a pool on the roof.

I got there late one night after my flight had been delayed and my luggage failed to make the onward connection from somewhere, Hong Kong maybe. No problem, I thought. It’ll have turned up by the morning. In the meantime I got to my room to find that all it had was a sitting room area and a dining area with a bowl of fruit on the table. Bit odd I thought, never having stayed in a suite before and not really even realising that this is what this room was.

Further exploration revealed that the bedroom was off a changing room that also led to a marble bathroom. I had a choice of one of those posh power showers in its own marble wet enclosure or a separate marble bath. I also had a complete set of toiletries including shaving kit and toothbrush, and a nice bathrobe. Perfect, I didn’t need anything else that night.

I had a bath and a shower and chilled out in the robe. It wasn’t until the next morning that I found the second toilet! Two toilets in a hotel room! It’s never happened since though I have stayed in a few nice gaffs. The great thing about nice hotels is that they usually have nice bars and you can often meet interesting people. Doing it on corporate expenses also allows you to look as if you are loaded on someone else’s dollar.

There was one year where we had the corporate managerial get together at Disneyland Paris. At the time we had three kids including a baby. I drove the family over from the UK and we all crammed into a room with two small double beds. The plan was for the baby to sleep in the pushchair. Whilst I worked the gang would go around the theme park and meet up later. I couldn’t spend all my time with them because after all I was there for the corporate team building. The first night I got in from the bar at about two o’clock in the morning only to find that the baby wasn’t sleeping in the pushchair after all. He was in my space in the bed! It wasn’t a particularly comfortable trip sleep wise but we weren’t complaining as we didn’t normally get to go abroad on our family holidays.

Having a business I own, or at least partly own puts a totally different perspective on things. Working for a corporate I used to stay at the best hotels I could get away with. There was usually a company travel policy but there were always exceptions that meant you could stay somewhere better – the conference hotel for example.

Working for a smaller business means I think a lot more about where to stay. I look for value for money rather than style and image. This doesn’t mean I always stay in poor quality hotels, though it sometimes does mean that. It just means I look for the best deal for the company.

All the travel I used to do did mean I got to accumulate lots of air miles and hotel points. We once used up 360,000 airmiles for four flights to California and spent three weeks travelling around staying at places loaned to us by friends I had made on my travels.

All the travel stopped when we set up business in the UK but I still had a wodge of hotel points that stayed active but never got used. Then last year we decided to go and see the Paul Merton Show in London and took the opportunity to use the points to book a night at the five star Intercontinental Park Lane. I also used Eastcoast train points to procure two first class return tickets to London.

The funny thing was that train was packed (that isn’t the funny bit). It was packed with members of the Unison trade union. They were all on their way to a huge rally in Hyde Park to demonstrate against government job cuts. It just felt odd to know that we were heading to the same place to stay in ostentatious style looking out onto the same park at which they were congregating to protest.

“Let them eat cake” I shouted, ducked and ran off. I didn’t really but it did feel strange.

We had a good time. Went out with friends Graham and Carole to a South Indian Restaurant before going on to the show and finished off at the Phoenix Artist Club. The Phoenix is a class joint in Soho where members of the theatrical profession (and me) go to let our hair down after a long day entertaining.

I had my Christmas bash there last year and we went through 53 bottles of champagne. Quality. I’m beginning to sound like a celebrity jet setter here aint I? I’m not really. Give me a quiet night in with beans and toast and a bit of bacon with a glass of milk any day.

I prefer my bacon fried. It tastes a lot better than when grilled. Trouble with frying is that these days they put so much rubbish into bacon that it often part steams as a result of all that rubbish eeking out into the pan. I refer you to this post on how to cook the perfect bacon sandwich for a guide on the subject.

When my dad was a kid they used to keep a pig in a sty at the bottom of the garden. The pig would eat up all the scraps and leftovers and then at some point it would get slaughtered by a visiting butcher. That all stopped when they introduced the law about all such slaughtering needing to be done in abatoirs.

The meat from the pig would largely be kept for my grandfather who as a miner needed a good supply of protein. My day said that my grandfather was in perfect physical condition from the waist up but that his legs and knees were shot hue to having to work underground on his knees in confined spaces.

My grandfather died “of the dust” when dad was still young. In his last days he would ask the family to open the windows of the cottage to let some air in but the windows would already be open. In those days you seldom saw an old miner. When they died the whole community would turn out to mourn. Dad says there were hundreds at his own dad’s funeral. It left a lasting impression.

It also left dad a lifelong socialist although he didn’t particularly mourn the pit closures and the passing of the coal trade in the UK. It wasn’t a nice job. Dad has a story about a disaster at the Blaenhirwaun pit where my grandfather worked. It was over the road from our house and its shaft was sunk by John Lewis, my great grandfather on my grandmother’s side.

Whilst the disaster was ongoing the whole community turned out to help and sandwiches were provided to all involved to keep them going. The rule was corned beef for everyone unless you had been working underground in which case you could have ham. Dad was dishing out the sandwiches. At one stage some “officials” from the coal board came along, went straight to the front of the queue and demanded ham sandwiches. Dad sent them to the back and told them they could only have corned beef. Hehe. I quite like ham sandwiches myself with nice crusty white bread and butter.

The cottage is still in the family. My anti Mair owns it though it doesn’t get used much nowadays. When we were kids it was our main holiday destination. I would go over the road for walks around the by then disused pit. Not really a very safe thing to do. I’d help Rachel Mary next door pick bits of coal off the tips or slag heaps. RM had to pay for her coal unlike my gran who as a miner’s widow had hers free of charge.

Summer holidays down there would always be pretty similar. Playing cricket in the back garden with dad. Days out on the bus in Llanelli or Swansea. Maybe a walk to the park in Cross Hands. Simple times. Uncomplicated. Not like the electronic fuelled lifestyle of today. We still need to work out how to get the balance right these days. Mind you I am quite possibly looking back through rose tinted spectacles. If I dig deep enough I can also recall the intense boredom of summer holidays or Sunday afternoons spent looking out at the rain with nothing on the box and another game of Monopoly in prospect.

3rd Law Part 31 here

3rd Law Part 33 here

3rd Law Part 31 – the fully clothed awakening

Wednesday, May 22nd, 2013

Just changed two light bulbs. One in the downstairs toilet and the other in the bathroom. Now another one has just gone in the TV room. Tripped the circuit breaker. It’ll have to wait. The light bulb that is not the circuit breaker. I switched that back on straight away. The family would have complained otherwise, having to sit there in the dark, guessing where the others were in the room.

It’s not that bad really. Spring est arrivee so it is still light out. In fact we were down the cricket nets until around 8.45 which ain’t bad. It got a bit cold and the sun was going down, like a fireball sinking into the Pacific Ocean except there was no water in sight and certainly not the Pacific. That would have placed us somewhere on the West Coast, of America that is. North or South – either would work in this context.

The words of the song, “sun goes down Santa Monica Boulevard” come to mind. Can’t quite remember who sang it.  I could Google it I suppose but won’t. I don’t want to use up my quota of Google searches. Only joking, in case you wondered there. I am not aware that Google imposes limits on the number of searches you can do (make?) in any given point in time. That would be self defeating and counter to the Google business model fwitw. The t in that acronym stands for totally. I just invented it. Hey…

Inventions are after all the mothers of necessities aren’t they? I read it somewhere I’m sure. I’ve been to Santa Monica you know. I quite like some of the place names around there. Sunset Boulevard. It’s exciting when you get to see it yourself. Ordinarily you would only see that stuff in movies or in American TV detective series where the private eye (Philip Marlowe of course) cruises up and down Sunset staking out some target, to coin a technical phrase used by those in the business, probably.

The problem with that part of the world is that whilst it sounds romantic on paper, celluloid, wireless etc the reality is that the whole area is like one big parking lot, to reuse a local Los Angelois phrase. I’m not completely sure about the Los Angelois bit but it sounds right and if it isn’t then it is from now on, if you get my drift. Los Angelinos? Let’s call the whole thing off.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the LA area over the years. Used to do a lot of business there though I do prefer Northern California. San Francisco. Must go back there. Do a book signing perhaps. When the sun is shining. I recall a wonderful evening in the Fairmont Hotel atop Nob Hill. We were sat in the bar on the top floor looking out over San Francisco Bay, Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge as it was getting dark. The lights came on around the bay and the mists really did roll in from the sea. Wonderfully atmospheric. Must go again. Last time we went with the kids. It is a great place to go without the kids. Great bars and nightlife. Lots of jazz, or at least there used to be. Can’t imagine it has changed.

The great ting about San Fran, if I may call it that is that it is a pretty European city in the US of A. It is one of only a few that can be categorized thus. The others that spring to mind are Boston and Portland, Oregon. Not sure whether there are any other Portlands in the US.  I could look it up of course but we’ve been there.

Boston is another place I’ve had a great time. Was there one Saturday, catching the day flight home on Sunday. To while away the time I went whale watching in the morning. Saw a few whales. V impressive. Apparently the sea used to teem with them until we, man did our worst. After the whale watching I met a pal in a bar at around 3pm and we went on a wonderful pub crawl around the best bars in Boston, stopping briefly to see the historic town hall.

I got in at 3 or 4am and miraculously woke up a couple of hours later fully clothed on top of the bed, coincidentally in the Fairmont Hotel. I say miraculously because I needed to get up to take a taxi to the airport. My body clock must have kicked in, looked after me. Phew.

Day flights are better than the red eye. For me at least but I think that’s the only day flight I ever caught back to the UK from the USA.  Normally on a trip out there I’d start in the east and work my way west and they don’t do day flights from the west coast, as far as I know.

One Thursday or Friday afternoon I remember flying back with American Airlines and was curious to see a woman moving around the cabin (business class of course) using all the phones, swiping her Amex card to set up the calls. Asked what she was doing she told me she was testing a new phone system that had just been installed. She was flying back and forth to London for a month making calls whenever she was over continental USA.

She offered me free use of the phone system. This was great except that there was no one I could ring. All my American contacts were at home and I only had their work numbers. Everyone in the UK was in bed! I left a few voicemails. When we got to Heathrow the woman got off the plane and hung around until it was time to get back on and go back again! Not much of a life tbh.

I was always glad to get back to Blighty, even though compared with the USA it was a dingy dirty place. The toilets always seemed to be in a state in Heathrow when we landed. The biggest thing I’d have missed was proper British food such as lamb tikka masala and warm beer. Also HP sauce and proper bacon. They don’t know how to do bacon in the USA.

But I don’t want to talk about food. I want to talk about something else. I’m not quite sure what though. Must be having a senior moment. Huh. Maybe it’s a side effect of the third law. The mind starts to work overtime here. What if there are other side effects I’ve not found yet. After all the third law is pretty ground breaking stuff. I defy you to show me anything about it anywhere else? There you go you can’t.

Fortitude is a requirement of the trail blazer. Fear nothing though it doesn’t make sense to drop your guard. Boldly go but please make sure that your intentions are peaceful and don’t interfere with the natives. Hmm. I wonder what natives might be associated with the third law. Might be a little research project. Maybe I could get a grant for it.

3rd Law Part 30 here

3rd Law Part 32 here

Fat woman in hotel restaurant

Tuesday, February 17th, 2009

There was heavy breathing
In the lift
Going down
For breakfast.
She was texting
And it seemed to me
The effort was
Making her breathless.
It came as a surprise
To see her on cereals
But then she appeared
In the line
For the full English buffet,
Urging her
Equally sizeable
Male companion
To take more
And then I saw her go
For a second helping,
A large one.
I walked to my meeting.