At this time of year, it’s pretty quiet in the hotel.
The usually overflowing car park is only half full and the service at dinner is remarkably quick, with the food arriving with uncharacteristic speed.
I believe that I’m currently the only person on the top floor, which is great. Never mind having my own room, I’ve now got my own floor!
With the current paucity of customers, the hotel has taken the opportunity to redecorate all the rooms – mine was done a couple of weeks ago whilst I had a week off – and they have taken to propping open the doors to allow the paint fumes to disperse quicker. As such, I’ve had a good old nose around, checking out all the rooms to see if any are better than mine.
Which they’re not.
Mine appears to be one of only two rooms where you can see the sea whilst you have a crap.
Which is nice.
But, being an old hotel, each room is different: a different shape; a different size or a different layout and it’s been fun sneaking around and comparing them all. Now that I have, I’m happy to see out the rest of this current tour of duty in Masher Towers.
And, interestingly, there is no room 13. They don’t have a room with the number 13 on it because people (read: superstitious idiots) sometimes refuse to stay in them.