Ken's Wine Blog

El Presidente · August 3, 2011

I thought this was a cracker which he recently posted on Spitbucket

24^th July -

Late. Lob into Adelaide. Now, on other occasions, I have been here in the middle of down town Adelaide mid-week, just after work time, and it would be a terrorist's nightmare. You could fire off umpteen bombs and not scratch a cat. The place dies around 7pm. Think of Will Smith in 'I am Legend', and that place was teeming in comparison. And yet, at 11pm on a Sunday night, the Adelaide airport is full swing. Times Square stuff. Odd place, South Australia.

Now the hotel is apparently one of those backpacker-ish places where they have a shuttle to and from, being all of about half a mile from the airport itself, and shuts down when the one-man operation is away. But we are only in for a quick kip and back to meet the rest of the troops tomorrow morning and the chap running the place is extremely pleasant and helpful, so no probs. But shall we say it is not a Forrie-standard place. Those who are acquainted with the 'whinge from the West' (and I mean that as a term of endearment), will know that the princess and the pea might just have been written about him.

I must say I tend to rate these sorts of places by how they compare with the king of airport hotels, the Orcland International (or something like that). I stayed there, to and from a trout trip, a few years ago. On the way back, I had splurged and gone from the basic room at N$61 a night to the ritzy one – NZ$64 a night. After seeing the wannabe jail cell that was the 'basic', I could not wait to see what the upmarket room was like. That extra three bucks got you a chair. Not the sort you'd sit in, or want to (indeed, it looked like it had been dragged from an evidence locker after they had cleaned off all the blood, or most of it), but it was there. But my fave part of this place – aside from the '$4 a week car park but if your car was still there after a month, it would be towed' (I must confess that for me, the very thought your car would still be there the next day in that neighbourhood was the height of optimism) – was that the first night I was there, the fire hose contraption on the wall outside my cell was in use. After I unpacked, I went out and followed the hose along the corridor and out the back door, whereupon it disappeared over the fence, and into the neighbour's pool. Seems that at midnight, the bloke had snuck in and pinched the fire hose to fill his pool.

Anyway, this room is streets above the dear old Orcland International. In the tiny mini-fridge, it had two champers glasses. Granted that they were plastic and a delightful aqua-blue, but it is the thought...

The strangest thing about it was that there was an enormous spa. Not in the bathroom, but right next to the bed. Fall out of bed and you could drown!

And I see no reason why anyone would complain about the highway being about 8 foot from the hotel – after all, the sound of those trucks endlessly whizzing by is drowned out by the planes as they take off and land, presumably using this very room as something to line up as they approach the runway.

I’m off to dream of submarines and spas.

First Lady · August 3, 2011

Honestly he can ***** LOLOL Maybe they saw him come in and decided he needed a bath quick smart so they gave him the room with the spa :wink2: Love you Ken