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S.O.S. Hotel

2013-SOS-suisse_army

Are you a frequent traveler? How do you feel when you arrive in all these wonderful hotels around the world? What is your first impression?

I travel a lot, I think that I was born in a plane and most probably I will die in one. However, whenever I arrive at a hotel, I just see how well and firm they are at the check in. I love the German style. Receptionists have a short, precise, straightforward conversation and ready to go. China is a little bit difficult, maybe because of the language barriers, and the fact that the culture does not allow them to have a conflict, so they say yes, without understanding what it really means.

After the check-in process you step into the elevator, 3 bags in one hand and the suitcase, short of time, so there is no time to wait for help. You realize that the elevator is only working when you put the card into the foreseen opening. OK, bags down, such a pity I had them already set so wellwell in one hand and here we go.

Exiting the elevator I realize after a short phase of orientation that my room is across the ocean, about half a mile to walk, friendly people greet me on my way there. The carpet in the aisles is slowing us down with our suitcase and here comes the first real problem – why on earth do hotels put this carpets there?

Yippee! I found my room and it is tiny like a nutshell. No problem just put things there and takes a shower while I fall asleep on my bed, awakened by the housekeeping standing in my room checking the minibar. Why on earth do they enter my room, I would not allow this to my own kids without my approval? If you are lucky you are dressed, if they are lucky you are undressed? Or vice versa.

The meetings were successful and you come home after a nice dinner with little wine. Happy to go to bed and want to turn on the TV. Why do you need a university degree to make the TV work? It happened to me that I unplugged the TV just to get read of the “Happy to have you here, Mrs. Grossmann” sentence blinking in yellow color from the screen directly to my bed.

OK, I give up, need no TV today. A hot shower will make me happy. Trying to get a proper orientation in the shower room, with all these complicated Rainforest shower or space shower. Here I stand with all the soap and I cannot activate the shower raining down on me. Already really desperate I put the water with both hands all over my body and I start to curse and cry. While I try to shut down the knob the ice-cold water falls from the Rainforest shower just in the moment I did not ask for.

I close my eyes and dream that I will live one day on a sunny island where there are no hotels any more for me.

The next day seems better. At least I am an optimistic person so I try to believe it. The big meeting is ahead of me. I do my yoga exercises in my tiny room and I cannot make cycles with my arms without hitting the decoration from the table. I wash my hair with the Rainforest at agreeable temperature. The day is good. Rushing out and already quiet late I search for the hairdryer. I search everywhere, even in the minibar. No hairdryer. So I call reception, after 35 ringing I get someone who does not know where the hairdryer could be. I open the door and ask for help; luckily the housekeeping is already waiting to rush into the room at 7 am and shows me that the hairdryer is in the last drawer together with the bible. Please why do I have a bible, why do we not have the Koran and the Talmud at least to have it right. OK no time for religious discussions. The alternative is the hairdryer in the bathroom – fixed – so that you can hold it with one hand to constantly fix the on button and with the other hand you handle the brush, the hairspray and the styling foam, please can someone show me how to do this. OK, I try to fix my hair to get a small breakfast. Entering the breakfast room I get the smell that shows that it is not good to combine 55 different types of food.

And now comes the challenge. Imagine yourself on a British garden party – plate, glass, umbrella and one hand to shake when you are introduced. Here we go. Handbag, plate, newspaper and choosing the food that falls down a dozen. I give up and eat just bread, dry bread. And I am so sorry for myself. And before I am heading to the exit, I remember that getting my suitcase down, asking for the hairdryer and getting my car cost me already 30 euros tipping.

Dear Hotel directors and architects and designers, ask us frequent travelers what we need and what we do not need and then we all can live happily together.

 

Lots of love

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