WHEN I had to choose a London hotel to stay in recently I found that the one I picked was slightly further away than another I liked, but it had much better stationery – and that stationery is now sitting on my office desk.
I’ve worked in enough hotels over the years to know that there are certain things you are allowed to legally ‘nick’ – ie I wouldn’t try and walk off with the iron or the hairdryer.
And I’m not bothered about emptying the biscuit and tea supplies… but the stationery draws me like jewellery to a magpie.
A superb pen to add to the three thousand I already have and a thick notepad of first class quality.
Sadly, the days of the complimentary mini toiletries seem to be no more in the hotels I stay in as I am forced to pump pine-scented gel out of bottle secured in the shower.
I used to bring all the little bottles home for my son who was at uni thinking he’d be grateful but alas no: ‘what do I need with a hundred bottles of body lotion, mum?’ he’d say.
So I stopped. But the shower caps always come in handy because hotel rooms seem to be designed by men who have no idea of a woman’s experience in them.
There is always one of those rainshowers and us women do not want to fanny about getting our hair wet when we are only away for a night.
Trying to get water onto every part of me but my head would require me to have the bendy spine of a circus contortionist, so I would have thought a shower cap is a massive essential.
There is always a big mirror and it’s miles away from the plug you need for your hair straighteners.
There is never a big light these days, just wishy-washy two watt bulb spotlights and that is absolutely no good for make-up application.
In the posher hotels you do get a magnified mirror in the bathroom… often this is okay if you are taller than five foot six.
And a woman in charge of a hotel would give guests a black towel for taking their slap off with – something I’ve only ever seen once.
I do like to mix and match London hotels to check out the amenities but I have yet to find one that covers all my asks.
Mind you the last one I stayed in was a cheapo (by London standards) opposite to Kings Cross. It was a very poor show: no plug anywhere near the bed, not even a bar of soap.
There was nothing I wanted to nick – in fact, it was such a poor hole, I almost donated some of my own stationery to it.
But I could at least roll out of bed and straight across the road to get the train. It wasn’t the sort of place where you’d have a breakfast, if you know what I mean.
And whatever happened to the old mini bar? Too often there’s just a fridge with a bottle of free blimming spring water. Mind you I suppose it’s saved me lifting a bag of interesting looking nuts up out of sheer nosiness and being charged ten quid by the motion sensor.
So if I win the lottery (fat chance seeing as I’ve only won two lucky dips in the last five years) I will buy a hotel especially for lady guests with hundred-watt light bulbs, dressing tables, complimentary cocktails, an adjustable shower head, plug sockets near mirrors, nickable soaps and lovely stationery.
In the meantime… I’ll just have to suffer.
