rivettingKateTaylor

All those nights spent in dodgy backpackers with one eye open or awesome ones with great people from all over the world have faded into the back of my memory in the wake of a wake up call last night… I need comfort.

It’s only 1hr20 drive home from a conference I am writing up in Napier (Pipfruit NZ for the Orchardist mag) but I decided it was worth my while to stay up there and do some work in the evening.

So I did some googling for cheap accommodation (gotta do my bit to keep the budget in line). All I needed, I thought, was a bed, shower and toilet (I knew an ensuite was a must, no share there!) So I booked into a backpackers with a single room plus ensuite.

The supermarket visit supplied a Watties hotpot, cuppa soup, and some crackers and lemon, lime and bitters for the five minutes of cooking and cooling time.

One look at the sparse and old fashioned look of the room was the first notch on my “uncomfortableness” meter. Peeling paint, one blanket (heater supplied), threadbare towel for the shower with the gorgeous fluro orange curtain and one power point (cellphone charger, laptop plug, hairdryer….)

One look at the inside of the first microwave I opened was the second, third and fourth notch.

The lack of clean mug, spoon… fifth notch.

Approving glances from the five Spanish-speaking blokes in the dining room – sixth notch.

Passing half a dozen “young people in weird clothing” on the stairs heading down from the same floor as me – seventh notch.

Rattling cold from the sash window beside the bed – bags packed and I’m off. I told the lady I had to go home again.

First stop – real motel.

Jug – coffee supplied. Air conditioned heat. Electric blanket.  TV. Alarm clock. Internet access. Off street, undercover parking.

Thank you Thomas for spoiling me over the past 15 years in the way to which I have become accustomed.

Roll on five star.