The worst shower in the world

This post continues from the previous blog post, just a heads up there, for the imagined idea of blog readers.  So, I have showered and it wasn’t the worst shower in the world.  It wasn’t the best shower but it definitely wasn’t the worst.  I don’t feel like Ive emerged from a mini spa day.  I wasn’t handed super soft organic cotton towels at the end.  Herbal essences style orgasmic expression at the sheer majesty of the luxurious lather did not occur.  But I am now clean.  Clean, post shower, it’s pretty much all you need following a showering.  Power showers, massage jets, organic sea kelp soap rescued from the depths of an exotic ocean is just window dressing really.    

I knew this shower wouldn’t be the worst shower in the world because I’ve already had that shower.  The worst shower in the world happened a few years back.  This shower, had non-optional extras.  This shower had an array of insects.  An actual array.  Insects of many different types, on the walls and the floor.  These insects weren't on holiday, oh no, they weren’t just passing through, they actually lived in that shower.  Moreover, there were giant cobwebs on the ceiling which probably housed giant spiders.  Luckily, I didn’t see the giant spiders but they were probably there.   

 The shower window was cracked and made of ordinary, totally transparent glass.  You could see in and you could see out.  I might as well have showered in the garden.  I could basically wave at my friends whilst I showered.  Unfortunately, all my friends except one were male.  I had to wear flip flops during the shower experience to ensure that my feet didn’t emerge dirtier than when they went in.  There was no shower curtain and there was no lock on the ‘bathroom’ door.  I invert comma the word bathroom because it was just a room that largely resembled a shed which happened to have a shower in it.  

The worst shower in the world, took place more than once and happened on a caving campsite in Northern Spain.  The caving campsite was sandwiched in between dog breeding kennels.  These dogs howled and barked continually for about 14 hours a day, every day and the smell emanating from their cages was stomach churningly disgusting.  I am not exaggerating.  We only stayed on this campsite for a few days but it was a memorable few days.  Memorable in all the wrong ways.  We travelled there from a 5 star hotel.  The contrast between the two locations only served to highlight the numbing horror of it all.  I’ve blogged about this caving campsite before.   

 

So I have ended this day with a shower and it was a reasonably pleasant experience.  Now it’s time for bed.  Night night.

xx

Downward spiral?

Sometimes things take a downward turn in life.  In fact, sometimes things turn downwards to such a degree, that it feels like bad stuff is being repeatedly fired at you with military precision.  

Bam, your toddler’s nappy has leaked all over the buggy.  Bam, you've missed the train.  Bam, the lift at the train station isn't working thus you pace up and down for ages with a tired, hungry toddler trying to find another way out.  Bam, your phone breaks.  Bam, you’re toddler is stamping on your feet and hitting you in the face.  Bam, certain hotels won’t let you stay in them without a valid credit card and your credit card isn't working.  Bam, you've found a hotel that doesn't require a credit card but Bam, you've been put on the top floor, have a toddler, a buggy and luggage, there is two flights of stairs and no lift. 

Bam, your toddler has managed to pour hot coffee over herself (panic stations but thankfully her two layered baggy clothes have somehow protected her).  Bam, coffee stains on your hotel wardrobe.  Bam, coffee stains on the hotel floor but its fine because you can’t differentiate between the coffee stains and the stains which were already there.  Bam, you have no internet access.  Bam, your temporary phone has a ring tone so loud, that it has woken your toddler up.  

Bam, you have FUCKING ANNOYING predictive text that you can’t switch off.  Bam, the terrible food you've eaten for dinner is repeating on you.  Bam, and this is the clincher, we are only in this hotel because we currently have nowhere else to go.  Bam, bam, bam and the bad things keep on coming.

Okay so we’re alive and we are, to the best of my knowledge, healthy.  We have a roof over our heads.  We have eaten. We are hydrated.  I desperately need a shower, and the hotel room has a shower.  It’s a crappy shower, that might collapse at any moment but it’s a shower.  I will have to use hand soap to wash my hair, and hand soap isn’t shampoo but hand soap does clean things.

Things could be much worse.  I won’t tempt fate here, they could actually get much worse.  However, things could also get better.  When things really slip into the lower echelons of shitedom, arguably the only way is up.  Cue Yazz in the Plastic Population. 

Tomorrow is a new day.  I still have to fight my way back down two flights of stairs but carrying a heavy buggy, plus luggage, whilst negotiating a toddler but it is much easier travelling downhill than uphill.  

Interestingly, breakfast is included in our room price.  In fact, this ‘hotel’ doesn’t offer room only.  Breakfast, it seems, is compulsory.  ;-).  Well, it the most important meal of the day so who am I to argue.  I do worry at what breakfast might consist of but we will head to the dining room tomorrow morning to find out.  I strongly suspect that we might end up breakfasting via Tesco Extra but you never know, the food at this hotel could be totes amazeballs.  If the carpet stains, wall stains, TV that is STILL tuned into analogue (yes really) are anything to go by, the food here might be radioactive but you just never know.

So, onwards…… I’m off to test out the hotel shower.  Wish me all the luck you can muster.

 

Sheffield fun

I finally made it to Sheffield to visit my good friend Sam.  Yay.  I brought my toddler, which wasn't exactly the rock n roll festivities that I'd hoped for but Sam and I did chat into the smallish hours and wine was consumed. Obviously, Amber, my toddler, isn't much for wine thus stuck to coconut water.  ;-)

More Sheffield fun soon please......

xx

Happy Birthday Benedict Cumberbatch!

Happy Birthday Benedict Cumberbatch!

Cakes and ale. ;-)

Wine. Fireworks.

Whatever. Enjoy!

xx

Vote BC

http://www.popsugar.com/Sexiest-Man-Award-Season-2014-Poll-33942590

Here you can show your appreciation of BC by voting for him.  He currently leads by 54%.  Lets landslide this mofo.

xx

Benedict again, the flustering prospect of him beyond the screen

I commented on a post earlier today, which posed the question "what would you say, if you saw Benedict Cumberbatch walking down the street".  This, I felt, was a good question because oddly, I had never considered such a happening.  Mostly because the chance of me spotting BC a-wandering down the street is super slim.  He is jet-set fabulous actor man, I'm rural Cheshire hippy mum.  But if I did bump into him, what would I say......

I'd like to say, "Hello, you were amazing in basically everything I've seen you in".  "Do women often faint when they meet you or do they manage to remain upright with support"?  *attempts to create an overly dramatic, comedic faint move whilst simultaneously making it absolutely clear that said overly dramatic, comedic faint move is a compliment to BC's perfect loveliness*.

The reality would play out something like this - assuming I were able to activate my vocal chords beyond anything that didn't resemblance total, awestruck silence, I anticipate that the words exiting my mouth would make very little sense whatsoever.  I'd babble and I'd blush.  In fact, I'd blush at a luminescent level.  I also suspect that I'd be wearing my clothes inside out or have food on my face or be in the midst of a parenting shame-shout at my toddler or something else equally horrific.  Rather than the above sentences, I'd say "Hello *stammers, coughs, stammers*, you were amazing, erm you are amazing". *Actually faints, ambulance is called*.  Epic fail.

Despite the fact that I clearly represent the most uncool elements of Ben's CumberCollective, it must be tremendously flattering for BC that soooooo many ladies fluster at the thought of him.  Keep weaving your magic Benedict.  We love it.

xx

I like pink wine and I cannot lie!

I like pink wine and I cannot lie.  To be accurate, I like rose wine.  Actually, to be completely accurate, I like wine.  I also like champagne, which, if we are honest, is just sparkling wine with bells on. Despite the fact that champagne is a bit pretentiously posh - it is lovely and a good pink champagne is the fecking bomb.  It really is. 

I'm currently sipping a glass of Wolf Blass Yellow Label Rose (imagine there is an accent on all relevant e's because I have no idea how to put one on any of them).  Given the current financial climate, Wolf Blass Yellow Label Rose, is a tad expensive.  Yes, it might be basic for some, but for me, it's pricey.  The cost of wine, it's all relative (man). 

I give my Wolf Blass a robust thumbs up (but only metaphorically due to spillage avoidance). It feels like summer in glass.  And summer in glass makes me smile on the inside. 

Coincidentally, I'm due a glass or two of Pimms soon, which is another lovely pink drink and a further example of summer in a glass. 

Summer in a glass, summer in general and pink stuff, I salute you. 

xxx