Roomy Restaurant

Well we’ve had quite a day, there’s been good and bad and dinosaur taxi’s everywhere.

I didn’t sleep that well but not as badly as the rest of the gang it seems. Poor Kenneth was up at 2.30am trying to buy a bottle of water at the bar and looked very bleary eyed in the cab. My shower was as expected and it appears that the shower head had been discarded in the base because if you hung it up it leaked water quite noisily and ferociously. The ‘power shower’ was more like a dribble and I had to lift the shower door on to the base to try and shut it, which it didn’t. Breakfast arrived and was 2 pieces of cold toast, some marmalade, corn flakes and warm milk. Mmmmm, the breakfast of kings!

In the cab people were not happy and the bitch fest started. To be honest as much as I went on yesterday I think Fawlty Towers is pretty hilarious and apart from being a bit skanky, well I’ve stayed in worse that’s for sure. Not the most ideal place with it’s location, broken lift and breakfast that stars when we have to leave but there we go. However, the other 3 seemed outraged that the company would put us up in such a pit and that it would never have happened if we were even middle level management (they have a point there). I don’t think it helped matters that between us we’d probably had about 3-4 hours sleep either and with a pregnant lady in the car, well tensions were high.

To rub salt into the wounds when we rocked up at the spa hotel where the course is it was a lovely place, amazing grounds, nice foyer, tea, coffee and buns in the lounge area and not a drape in sight. Also we were told after arriving at 8.15am that the course started at 9am. Like the attachment had said and like I argued the toss about with Fuckwit. Score another one up to the HR retard.

Anyway accommodation aside the course is great, I’m really enjoying it and the tutor is wicked. We spent all afternoon and early evening walking along the coast line here and on beaches and up hills – I’m in my element. Plus the weather is cracking (t-shirt tan is developing) so it was shorts all round. However, my concentration was hampered by Swim and her continuous complaints about Fawlty Towers and then the walking and then the lunch and then everything else. I know she’s preggers and hasn’t slept or eaten properly but FFS cheer up luv! Ginger and Kenneth were egging her on somewhat as well and at one point sitting on a cliff I heard one of the other people on the course say “I only got half of what he (the tutor) was saying as I was listening to a conversation over there about a hotel....” I think we may be starting to piss people off here, let’s give it a rest eh?

But no, Swim is still on the case and texting everyone she knows in HR about it. So we get a call from Fuckwit while we’re in the mini bus. Swim lays it on thick and plays the pregnancy card and it works and we’re booked into another place for that evening. A ‘Restaurant with Rooms’, ok sounds a bit different, at least we know we’ll be fed, whatever, I am beyond caring now I’ll go with the majority.

After we arrive back at the spa our cab (this is the dinosaur link, they are ‘Jurassic Cabs’ and have the Jurassic Park logo on the side with ‘cabs’ instead of ‘park’ – stupendous, I love it) takes us back to Le Shitole and we pack up and book out in 5 minutes flat (I hate being rushed), back in the cab and off to the next place. It’s 45 minutes away in Poole, can we get any further from this course venue? Maybe just drop me in London and I’ll commute in every morning?! We rock up at 8pm and it’s like someone’s house in the middle of nowhere. No where. Looks ok, nice grounds, big gravel drive way.

We’re welcomed very warmly and our bags are taken to our rooms on the 1st floor and we’re personally shown our rooms. Well. Let’s just say that currently I am sat in bed in my complimentary robe on the free Wi Fi after having eaten the most amazing 5 course meal (2 Michelin stars), showered in my walk in, massive shower and watched a bit of my wide screen TV.

Check it: www.lesbouviers.co.uk

I think that probably says it all.

Ironically Fuckwit will have now had to of forked out twice as much on these rooms after paying for the other rooms anyway and she could have just put us up in the decent hotel she had lined up originally before Basil and Sybil popped up on her Google search. She’s going to be in so much trouble.

So now the moaning and whinging has ceased. I’m hoping tomorrow will be slightly less stressful and our fellow course members will want to sit next to us at lunch and not be in fear of being bored with the ‘crap accommodation’ conversation again.

Although I will have one little moan. In my rush to pack and get back down to Richard Attenborough and his people carrier I forgot my pyjama’s which must have been neatly stashed away under my pillows or duvet when my bed was made. Or maybe they stole them out of spite. I’ll try claiming them back on expenses if I can find the Primark receipt from 2 years ago....