On the coast road from Great Yarmouth heading North is a hotel ideally placed if you're desperate for a hot drink and a wee on a cold day. I can't remember the name of the hotel and i'm sure things have improved since i called there (?). To paint a bit of background detail, imagine a grey sky and grey sea. It's mid winter and dark outside. A biting North East wind blowing straight from Sibera and no land mass in between to warm it. The coffee you drank for breakfast is begging to be released and fear of frostbite somewhere important is preventing just hopping behind a bush. This is the kind of situation where you take a chance or two that you normally wouldn't...
So I pull into the deserted car park of this hotel. A sign in the window says open all day for meals and drinks - don't stop to wonder why the car park is sooo deserted, just get in the warmth and order a drink so you can use the loo. As I pushed though the front door i was welcomed by two things. The first was an impression of emptiness, the second was that damp, musky smell that you sometimes find in antique shops. A bell on the desk suggested I rang for attention, which i duely did. I was answered by silence. Finally a middle aged woman wandered from a darkened room off to my left.
"Would you like a room"? Her voice had an odd edge to it
"No thanks, just a drink"
Without another word she went back into the darkend room and held the door open for me to follow. As we go through the door it becomes apparent this is the hotel lounge and bar. A shuffling from the other side of the room tells me my hostess has wandered off.A glow of a dim bulb tells me she's switched on the bar lights.
"Just a coffee please"
"Are you sure you don't want a room"
"Just the coffee will be fine thanks"
A black lump is shovelled into a cup and placed in front of me. After the excitement of such a warm welcome my bladder decides to remind me of why i'm here.
"Where's your loo please"?
The first smile almost creases her lips. "Follow me"
Now at this point anyone should be hearing alarm bells ringing. A debt collector should be vibrating with internal warnings, but when you've gotta go - you've gotta go.
I followed her trough the back of the lounge, only just visible with the light from the bar. As we got to the door she switched a light on, illuminating a long corridor and off we went. Still in total silence. At the end of this corridor she stopped, switched on a light that lit another, equally long corridor and turned the light off from the one we'd just come down.
Another two corridors and another two light switches and we were stood outside the gent's.
"how do i get back"? i felt i had to ask.
"I'll wait for you"
I'm now stood in a freezing cold Gent's toilet, in the smelliest, most deserted hotel in the world with a woman waiting outside that's obviously several sticks short of a bundle. This isn't the most condusive atmosphere to urinating. After a couple of minutes my hostess actually knocked at the door to ask if i was ok. THAT helps to speed up the process. Blind panic will do that.
Business completed we walked back, turning lights on and off as we went until the relative safety of the bar appeared. The coffee was ignored as i made my escape (at this point that's what it felt like), and as i wheel spun out of the car park i couldn't help wondering... what would have happened if i'd taken a room?
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1 comment:
Good for people to know.
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