For some reason accommodation in Osaka is harder to find than a donut in Kirstie Alley's dressing room. I spent over two hours on the internet being thwarted by a variety of 'no availability' messages and Japanese websites.
The hotel manager where I am currently staying then spent over an hour attempting in vain to locate me a room before, with a rather grim face telling me, she had found 'something, but not of a high standard'. With bowed head and quivering lower lip she a admitted that the room had 'A lamp that did not work'. Gravely insulted, I immediately called for the name of her superior, her first born child and front row seats at her impending hair-kiri.
My worst hotel rooms:
1. Osaka, Japan – A lamp that didn't work, upon arrival it had been fixed.
2. San Salvador, El Salvador – This particular hotel had a 10pm curfew as a courtesy to it's guests whose safety on the surrounding streets was dubious at best. The walls separating the rooms were pieces of plywood, that only rose to just above head height – the remainder was chicken wire. None of the rooms had locks so rather than be murdered in my sleep, I spent the night drinking vodka with a heavily home-tattooed Mexican who had recently been released from a Texas jail for drug running.
3. Oaxaca, Mexico – Having spent a night on the Tequila I was in need of a good nights sleep. Around three in the morning having been constantly woken by strange gushing sounds, I lifted the wooden planks under my mattress to find it had been built over a sewer – a unique feature you won't find on Grand Designs.
4. Kuching, Borneo – The smashed window was unsatisfactory, but it was hot so It gave a nice breeze and a decent view. The bed frame that looked like a medieval torture instrument was just about bearable, however, the flimsy sponge mattress stained with enough substances (blood being the principal one) to keep the CSI Borneo boys busy for a number of days was just to much. The floor turned out to be even dirtier.
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