The mighty office in all its glory. This is where the magic happens: where I try and fail to learn Spanish. Basically a self contained eco system, it has everything necessary for life: water, internet connection, cookies, beer, Berocca, vitamin C and bandaids. The only thing missing is a urinal (that works).
Yes, that's a single bed. I'm not a tall guy by any means but even my feet hang off the edge. The bastard is on wheels to so I wake up on the other side of the room most nights scared and disorientated. I wouldn't have believed it possible but I have developed a case of Stockholm Syndrome for my abysmal pillow. More or less like a sack of wet porridge, I shuddered when I first saw it. BUT it is 100% malleable, smells as bit but can deal with any sleeping position necessary. If you felt like sleeping on a car shaped pillow — just hit and poke it for a minute and BAM! it stays in shape. Last night I sleep on a rocking horse, tonight who knows! I am considering flogging it when I leave, it's so empty I could roll it up into my back pocket.
That chair is a piles inducing nightmare — angled downwards at 15 degrees and as hard as bricks. I wouldn't even break it over Hulk Hogan's back for fear of doing some real damage to the man. After only 20 minutes sitting at it I feel like I have been kicked in the arse by an enraged donkey. At a leisurely three paces behind me is the en suite; a basin, shower and toilet all crammed awkwardly in a small porcelain bowl placed unnaturally high on the wall (but I still can't work out where I'm supposed to put the dunny roll?). And don't get me started on that heater, talk about tits on a bull. But it's getting warmer now so I can live without its uselessness. The balcony is nice but if I want to sit out there I have to sit cross legged because the only other option is that black arse-destroying monstrosity. There a family of pigeons living in the tree outside but I'll leave that for a another titillating ¡Man Abroad! entry.
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