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Hotel Bourbon takes the biscuit

October 23, 2013

I suppose it had to happen. The rain started within an hour of leaving Bourges where we had spent the night at the Hotel Bourbon, and from where I took this picture of the wonderful interior which doubles as a restaurant. The hotel was not so wonderful the evening before when we were denied nightcap by a heavy-handed closure of the bar, full of hotel guests gagging for a drink. It was dubbed “Unhappy Hour” by That Nice Lady Decorator. Many of those left thirsty and disappointed were German, and I am certain that one of them said that if they were still in occupation nothing this stupid would ever have happened. Of course I don’t have any German myself, but that is the impression I formed. At passport control they were probably asked; Occupation? “No, just for a few days.”

So with the dreary weather closing in, of the type I must expect to have to endure in England for the next 7 months, ruining a planned lunch on the beach at Oiusterham, the ferry port, we were relegated to eating unappetising curly chicken curry sandwiches in the car whilst sitting in the queue for purgatory in the rain. Actually, I think Purgatory was the name of the Master Mariner Mundell’s house at his public school.

old building in hotel

Hotel Bourbon in Bourges

Once aboard we found our cabin was the size of a large hamster house, so adjourned to the bar to decide which of us was going to drive back from Portsmouth. It is a regular debate that, despite winning the argument every time, I always seem to lose. We had earlier had just enough time for a beer in an utterly unprepossessing bar near the port, and an even less appetising drink in the Brittany Ferries car ferry port. It was enough to put you off beer for life, at least that nasty gassy stuff that passes for beer in France. There is not a bar in the world that could put a real man off proper beer, such as London Pride, but gassy Heineken is a different matter.

Brittany Ferries proudly boast that there is Internet aboard. What they don’t tell you is that if more than 3 people attempt to get on-line at the same time, access speeds drop to the speed of a stunned tortoise. I managed to retrieve two emails and send one in 7 hours on board. I say bring back dial-up. It was more efficient. The network was called “on seas, when it should have been dubbed “on seas on Valium”.

Eventually, after a thoroughly over done rack of lamb, we sought on the refuge in the rabbit house cabin, where, tired from the exertions of recent days, I lay down to sleep. I managed this for at least 30 minutes before being awoken by That Nice Lady Decorator to be told that she could not sleep because of the vibration of the boat. Ten minutes later I was awoken again to be told that there was an electrical storm which I should witness. Then, over the next hour, I was awoken on probably a dozen occasions to be told about the same electrical storm (5 times) and that she could not sleep (4 times), and do you know what? surprisingly in her opinion, I found it difficult to sleep myself as well.

Arriving back in Arundel at 10 pm, there was just time for the that first pint of proper beer, whilst sitting down in the

Kings Arms with some London Pride to consider the events of the summer, and especially the success I have had with Currencies Direct when he happened upon Colin The Pirate and the sultry goddess Sandra, of which more tomorrow.

Chris France

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff permalink
    October 23, 2013 12:24 pm

    Welcome home to the land of eternal grey !

    “These vibrations are making me shiver,
    Says Issy, I’m all of a quiver !!
    They’re rocking my boat,
    Shall I wake the old goat ?
    Nah…they’re better than he can deliver ” !!


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