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Basingstoke (2008-03-03)

Category: Diary. Posted: 2008-03-06 08:17:58 GMT. Updated: 2008-03-08 15:09:58 GMT.

Fortunately, today wasn't too busy at work, because I had to finish everything outstanding at work before I left today, because I was running a training course in Basingstoke for the next three days. As usual, no lunchbreak for me, but I did get to leave on time. At home, I checked my e-mail, and packed a few things into my bag, and then walked up to the station. As I was walking up, I realised that Basingstoke might not be too far from Zoe (Southampton), Becky (Bournemouth), and Sad Simon (Guildford), so looked up train times. Winchester seemed a good place to meet both Becky and Zoe half-way, so called Becky. She was in Newcastle, would be back on Wednesday, but had a date. How dare she! I called Zoe, who had plans for tomorrow, but was free on Wednesday. Excellent - a hot date.

On the way from Langley to Basingstoke, I entered the postcodes of the hotel, and the company offices, into my TomTom. It was amusing to see the TomTom logging my progress along the train line, but getting very confused when trying to suggest a route. Unlike when I had dinner with my family for my birthday, to avoid any embarrassment, I turned off Sylvia's sexy voice! [6/3/08 8:17 to be continued].

After sorting out the SatNav, I picked up one of the free papers. If I remember correctly, one of them has a section where commuters can leave messages for people that they fancied while travelling, and I thought I'd leave a message for the MILF in the queue at Paddington yesterday. Talking about Paddington, I had to smile when somebody tried to get in the picture that Gimmer took of Paddington Bear and me on Saturday. If only Gimmer had actually taken the picture while he/she was behind me.

I couldn't find the section that I was looking for, but I did find a section that listed people's current Facebook feeling. The first one was that somebody was "still having flashbacks to Ian Beale in black pants". I'd managed to completely blank this out of my mind. Last Thursday, Gimmer assured me that the day's Bellenders was worth watching, so we recorded the ten o'clock repeat, and watched it when it finished. I fast-forwarded to the correct place, and saw Ian Beale standing there, wearing only black pants. This definitely wasn't the vision of Claire that he'd promised. I shut my eyes, and tried to forget about this horrible vision. All that actually happened, was I started having visions of Frank Butcher in a flashing bow tie (and only a bow tie). My train arrived at Reading a few minutes late, so I had to run to catch the train to Basingstoke. I should have walked, and then claimed compensation. Oh well.

I got off at the station, and there were two ticket inspectors, so I asked them for directions to the Red Lion Hotel. The older one gave what seemed to be exact directions, but they were so long that I couldn't remember them all. This reminded me of a sketch on the Mary Whitehouse Experience years ago, which was based on only being able to remember the first two turns in a list of directions. Walking through the shopping centre, I couldn't remember a word that the bloke told me (despite him giving me the directions twice). Unfortunately, the SatNav wouldn't be much use inside a shopping centre, and there was lots of pokiness hanging around, who might take a fancy to my SatNav. I walked in what I thought was the right direction, and then walked out of an exit, and found a road. The SatNav told me that I wasn't far away, but, when I got close, I realised that the hotel's postcode didn't result in the best directions. I took an alternative route, and then figured out how to use the "add POI" function, so that other TomTom users could find the Red Lion Hotel in the future.

My double non-smoking room was booked OK, so I walked up the stairs, an unlocked the door. There was no ceiling light in the main part of the room, and one of the bedside lights didn't work, but, apart from that, it was OK. Unlike when I stayed in Kazakhstan, I remembered to unpack my back, and hang-up my suit, before going down to get a bite to eat. I realised that I'd forgotten to pack any shaving foam. I'd seen a notice on the desk that said that shaving kits were available for one pound from reception. I couldn't believe it - the hotel cost £140 per night, and I'd have to pay an extra quid for a shaving kit. I went downstairs for dinner, and asked the reception totty whether she had any shaving foam I could have. She said that they didn't, so I asked about the shaving kits. "Oh no", she replied, "they don't contain shaving foam". Gimmeration, that's as bad as the overnight bags on the sleepers. Anyway, she said she'd "check with housekeeping", and let me know when I'd finished dinner.

It was the first night that the waitress had worked, but she was top totty, so I didn't mind! After bringing me a pint, I asked her what the soup of the day was. She couldn't remember, so went to find the chef. Five minutes later, she hadn't found the chef. I'd chosen to sit by the window, and spotted a curry house outside. I was quite comfortable where I was, so just ordered nachos instead of soup (although how I was going to get any food if the chef had disappeared, I wasn't sure). The nachos were good, but it was a bit difficult to update my blog, and eat nachos at the same time.

Not long after I'd finished the nachos, the waiter brought me my steak (it was obviously too much for the totty to manage on her first night). "Is there anything else you would like Sir", he said. "Apart from a steak knife, nothing else". I couldn't believe it - with everything I was paying, I had to ask for a steak knife. Our customer had wanted to put a limit on my expenses. I wasn't happy to do this, but had said that he could specify what hotel I should stay at. Had he let me decide where to stay, I would have stayed at a fifty quid B&B, and saved about three hundred quid!

While I was eating, two drunk lesbians came in, and ordered a bottle of wine. While updating my blog, I listened to what they were staying. They couldn't be bothered to go home, and wanted to drink after 11PM, so considered staying at the hotel. Just as I'd started considering asking them to stay with me, one came back from reception, and had booked them into a room. They were a bit shocked to find out that breakfast finished at 9AM, but soon got over it.

Smiling at the sign that said "Easter Sunday Roast. Children Half Price" (good job they're half-price, I couldn't eat a whole one), I went up to my room . I watched then end of Newsnight, which had a video of a plane landing at a German Airport in high winds. It looked like hard work, I'm sure the video will be on YouTube soon. Before going to bed, I ended up having a shave using soap, because the receptionist had been unable to find any shaving foam for me.

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