Luxury. I'll Pass On That Thank You.

Part of the problem was, that I have become used to living life without the little luxuries that most people take for granted these days. I must be quite a hardy old geezer. Well actually, there is no must about it, I am a hardy old geezer.

My extremely handsome son George. Age 4.

My first reaction on reaching our luxury hotel was, is this what passes for luxury these days? I had been expecting comfort. Things like big fireplaces and enormous soft armchairs, for a start. I had been expecting a concierge, and a bell boy to show us to our room. What I got was a lukewarm unsmiling greeting, and a request to confirm my credit card number. What I got was plastic armchairs, and stifling overheated rooms.

I had expected a twin bedded room, but it was a double bed. I went back down to reception to change it, but they had nothing available - she didn't even look - so my extremely handsome son George had to share a bed with me. Poor thing, and he does snore so. Do you know he had the cheek to blame the snoring on me!

After I had worked out how to turn the taps on, (really if they are going to change perfectly good taps for new fangled modern ones they should have the good grace to provide an instruction manual). I ran a bath. With the toiletries provided it smelt very nice, although sadly there were not many bubbles. I did not take a photo, you really do not want to see me in a bath without bubbles!

I stepped into the bath and just as quickly stepped out again. Swearing loudly. Too hot. Far too hot! Whilst shaking my scolded leg I somehow at the same time managed to work out how to add cold water.

George was knocking on the door. "Are you OK Dad?"

"BLOODY BATHS! BLOODY HOTELS! BLOODY LEGS SCALDED!" Then I remembered this was his birthday treat day, "Yeah I'm OK son."

I never stayed in the bath long, it was too hot even after adding cold water. So much for that longed for pleasure.

The bed, well it suffered from the fact that too many people had sat on the edge of it in it's lifetime. The mattress dipped. It was like lying on the side of a hill. George had chosen the best side. Purely by chance of course. I think I must have just imagined him trying the bed out before he made his decision which side to sleep on!

I didn't sleep well. What with trying to avoid falling out. Also the room was far too hot. Outside in the corridor, people were being noisy and inconsiderate, for what seemed most of the night. Friday night is not the best time to spend in an hotel. I know that now!

The breakfast was excellent. Except that it was self service. I had expected to be served at table.

Many many years ago I was a silver service waiter, in some of Scotland's finest hotels. I know what a real luxury hotel is. I know how guests should be treated. I know that it should be a real treat!

Yes I do realise that I am living in the past. But do you know it cost £130 for bed and breakfast! Wouldn't you expect something a little bit classy?

Apart from the hotel though, we had a great time. Our team got though to the next round of the FA cup. We took in some culture at a museum and an art gallery.

After the match.

The best part of all though, was that I got to spend a lovely weekend with my best friend, my extremely handsome son George. You can't put a price on that!