A foreign country is a foreign country

I woke from strange dreams about hiding in a garden shed to find myself alone in a windowless hotel room in Bangkok. For such a place, it was remarkably well decorated; not a concrete oubliette, but a palatial king-size lair for a business traveller who enjoyed paying for wifi access and continental breakfasts.

I ran for half an hour in the gym, then spent the day losing my will to live, in an air-conditioned conference room (again windowless) while each person's half hour presentation metastatised to three times that length, and I worried that I'd never see home again.

Also, they had complimentary Smints on the tables and so I've probably consumed enough phenylaline for "laxative effects" to ensue.

Oh dear. Too much information?

The hotel is actually very nice, so it's a shame that apart from having my face rubbed last night, and going to the fitness centre, all I've seen have been the lobby, my room and a conference room. And far too many croissants, which I doubt are doing wonders for my cholesterol.

I had a bath this evening after dinner. I don't think that affects the LDL per ml of blood that I have, but after a long day and then too much red wine, you need to wash something away. The bath was enormous; long enough for me to stretch out my legs and relax, rather than sit there with my knees around my ears.

Which could be relaxing in certain company, but I'm very much alone in Bangkok.

Ah well. Tomorrow is another day, as they say. They fail to mention that tomorrow is another day where I need to get up at 6 in the morning. But I suppose they don't know I need to catch a flight...