So, our midweek getaway didn’t quite work out as planned.
It started off well. We got into town a tad early, so drove over to the Domain and decided to check into the museum. I haven’t been there in years, and because NZ has such shitty museums, am not generally a fan of them. I think they’re dark, musty and not that interesting. But Sue the Great T Rex was in town, so we paid $21 to get into that exhibition (and of course looked around the rest of the sections. I really liked the freaky birds. And the giant moa. And the intricate and not so intricate Greek Vases we studied in Classics back in the day…and yes, the dinosaurs were cool. Amazing that they didn’t all have heinous back problems. It must have been really uncomfortable to live in their bodies).
We checked in our bags, got up to our room, fell in love with it. (BF hugged me, exclaimed “I love it!!” and jumped on the bed). Ran a bath, went up to the rooftop pool (an outdoor one, supposedly heated, but felt barely lukewarm and tasted super thick and chloriney). Back into the room. Started to get ready for dinner, and later the casino. Couldn’t find BF’s shirt.
“Didn’t you pack it??? Where is it??? Don’t tell me it’s still at home???!!!!”
“….I think so.”
Not pleased. Why couldn’t he just have WORN it in? Why did he have to come in his raggedy smelly old singlet?
Ran down, asked the valet for our keys, and hoped to God there was a nice shirt in the clean laundry we’d picked up on our way over.
Nope.
Just as well, since BF picked that exact moment to start feeling sick. After a few minutes in the toilet, he declared himself a victim to the latest tummy bug. Dinner abruptly cancelled.
I ended up going out to get Thai takeaway from across the road while he lay in bed.
Casino was off.
I would still have gone anyway, but the friends we were going to meet changed their minds, and I sure was not going in there alone. I’ve never been before and going in by myself is not how I want to do it. I did go down for a looksee, and it simply annoyed me that there we were in the middle of town, staying in the most central, buzzing hotel and not making any damn use of it.
BF puked a lot. I felt really bad for him and tried not to feel like everything was ruined. Like he said, we saved a bit by him not eating, and us not going gambling.
The hotel was really nice. The shower/bath was a bit weird, in that there was a lever type thing that switched up whether you wanted the bath or the shower to run. It didn’t seem to work all the time – it was really niggly. Also, we were meant to arrive to two free easter eggs, and the room was meant to have a PS2. Neither of which was a big deal but BF insisted we paid for it and should get it….
So he rung. And a nice guy came up to give us our chocolate (and I couldn’t work out how to open the door to him; I thought we were locked in, but the doors are just insanely heavy). They insisted that none of their rooms had game consoles, however (oh yeah? why do the TV instructions say otherwise? And your website?) Not that we would probably have used it, but I emailed them a brief feedback email anyway. Because the thing that was the worst, was the fact that instead of keys, they use swipe cards. Not just for the room, but in the lifts as well.
We ventured out to find the pool and sauna. Our card wasn’t working in the lift.So we tried the stairs.
Only, we couldn’t actually get OUT of the stairwell, because none of the doors opened from that side.
It wasn’t fun.
Eventually we made it down to the ground floor and thankfully escaped through there, but I could have done without those five panicked minutes…
But the bathroom was amazing, the location and views and the facilities were good (I mean you’ve got restaurants, cafes, bars and the casino, just IN the building). And the bed! I looooove hotel sheets. I must find out where they get them.
And our free breakfasts included in our Easter package (along with valet parking and a book of vouchers) weren’t too shabby. BF wasn’t up to eating, so I packed what I could in our bags.
I just….get so annoyed when things don’t work out as planned. I guess that makes me inflexible. Like, I get set on going to a certain place one weekend. And then maybe someone’s car breaks down, nixing that idea. Then I’ll get upset and rail about things, do a spot of comfort eating, and sulk. I wanted this to be, well, not perfect, but NICE. Stupid stomach bug.
And I guess that’s why I dislike planning things, as they inevitably fall apart. Valentine’s was a nice exception. We didn’t end up going to the restaurant I booked, but got room service (and it was divine). And birthdays are always pretty crap. I think I’ve cried almost every year on my birthday in the last four or five years. It doesn’t really help that it falls in the depths of winter, when it’s cold and dark and damp – not exactly cheer-inducing weather. I don’t like to hype things up. I usually get let down.
Okay, end self pitying post. Tell me to shut up!
