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The Hotel Inspectors…

My current beau and I spent a weekend in a gorgeous country hotel in Sussex last month and decided at the end of it we should become secret hotel inspectors.  its not that we are overly difficult customers but we were shocked at some of the finer details they got so wrong.  For the best part of a grand a night (not that I was supposed to know that) you expect some finer touches.  The hotel was beautiful and the peacock filled grounds were spectacular, but and there were a few BUTS.  The bathrobes were not white and fluffy - more slightly greying and scratchy, the canopy on the 4 poster was coming undone, the champagne in the room wasn't chilled (I mean... honestly).  The meal in the restaurant was well presented but some things were burnt and then covered in sauce.  Neither of us complained at the time, he did not want to cause a scene in front of me and I was there as his 'guest' and so would not have dreamt of saying anything, but we giggled all the way home about the Faulty Towersness of the place.  A romantic break it was (if you follow my meaning), but we are now bitten with the bug of checking out the finer details of places we stay at - it's addictive.  We order things from room service just to check out how good the service is and to see just what we can get away with ordering.  Try it, it's hilarious.  Anyway enough of the critical eye, this weekend I am off to do a bit of star spotting at a society wedding in Ibiza, staying in our favourite finca - lovely fluffy white bathrobes and all.  I can't wait for a bit of sun and fun on the White Isle, I'll be back next week with all the gossip. Kisses K xx

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