A Touch Of Paradise!

February 22, 2013 at 12:19 pm Leave a comment

image

Now, I would like to start by apologising to Mr DJ from the USA, Vice President of some American mining company, for the mix up at the reception of the Taj Hotel, Cape Town.

I suspect a case of confusion and mis-identification. I suspect that they mistook Middle Man (also Mr DJ, VP of some American company (albeit not a mining company, and an Englishman to boot) for the former. At least, they asked me to confirm his check-in details before I realised and corrected their mistake.

Too late. By this time they had already sent the manager to greet me and introduce himself – “welcome Mr Dave” – served me with freshly squeezed juice, and, delighted me with the news that I had been upgraded to the Presidential Suite. I suspect, that they thought they had been talking to the other Mr Dave but were embarrassed and felt honour-bound to go through with this promise even after I had pointed out their error. And so, I was escorted by a smiley man to the 16th floor to, OMG, the most fabulous suite of rooms I have ever seen outside of a stately home or royal palace.

I kid you not. Even smiley man was impressed. It was his first time in El Prez’s and he asked if he could look around himself. He was like a kid in a sweet shop. We explored the rooms together – it took quite a while. “Oh, Mr Dave, what a shame you are here so late and for such little time”.

For sure, but I was so impressed I phoned C straight away and gave her a walking commentary. She was well jel. She would have loved it. She made me promise that if a nice smiley lady knocked on the door asking me if I wanted anything that I would decline. I promised!

imageI had a dining room which sat ten people; a huge lounge; a kitchen complete with a full-sized fridge freezer, filled with goodies (a maxi-bar so to speak); a huge, huge bedroom; an amazing bathroom with a bath that could have held four people and a walk in double (two-person) shower with access through the other side to a spa treatment room; and, upstairs, a separate office area and a personal gym area with a treadmill therein. And I was the king of plasma! And i could have my number ones and twos in separate toilets….

Outside there was a balcony with an outside dining area with spectacular views over the night scape of Cape Town. I even had a bloody telescope through which to better appreciate the view…… image

I had complimentary nuts and a bowl of fruit that would be the high point of any Christmas raffle, and a very nice bottle of wine.

OMG! Unfortunately, I had arrived at nine thirty at night, exhausted after a couple of days travelling (from the UK, to Johannesburg and on to Cape Town) with a busy work schedule in between. It was kind of wasted on me. All I wanted was to iron my shirt ready for the morning, a glass of wine, a bath, and a good night’s sleep.

But even in Paradise……..

Even presidents don’t get everything they ask for.

My first problem was ironing my shirt. Despite the fact that I had a walk-in dressing room the size of our spare bedroom (did I forget to mention that), I could not find an iron or ironing board. Clearly, presidents normally have people to do that kind of thing. So, I had to phone housekeeping and ask for an iron to be brought up. “Yes sir, Mr Dave”.

so, I thought I’d have a glass of the nice free South African red while I was waiting. Second problem. I couldn’t find a corkscrew for love nor money. I checked every drawer and cupboard looking for the damn thing. It took forever, there were a lot of drawers and cupboards in the place. In the end I had to admit to defeat and phone down to reception and ask for a corkscrew to be delivered. “Yes sir, Mr Dave”.

The doorbell rang and it was a nice smiley lady with an iron. She didn’t offer any extras but she did insist on walking through to the walk-in dressing area and setting the iron up for me. She left with a smiley “thank you Mr Dave”.

The doorbell rang. Frankly, I was getting a little fatigued with all the walking around this huge space. It was another nice smiley man with a corkscrew. He insisted on walking through to the kitchen and opening it for me. He left with a smiley “thank you Mr Dave”.

I think I had finally worked out that the staff had been hiding things that I might need as an excuse to visit the Presidential Suite to check out who was staying there!

I could not sleep yet. I then had to spend the next thirty minutes or so contacting my credit card companies to make sure that my cards had not been skimmed – I had received a strange email, purporting to be from an Australian website, confirming my order for the value of 450 in an unspecified currency. When I rang the contact us number on the helpline it went through to Beijing. Very suspicious. But, the card companies assured me that everything was ok. image

And so, finally, I was able to sink into my huge bath with my view of Cape Town, with a glass of red and a bunch of grapes. …… The bath was mad. The tap was in the ceiling!! Water poured down from on high. And, it was quite a struggle to climb in and out to be honest. But, it was hot and full of relaxing Molton Brown bubbles. And, relax I did…..and, so to bed.

It took me a good twenty minutes or so to go round turning all the lights off in the various rooms. But, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and slept the sleep of an innocent right through until the alarm went off. And, I awoke to stunning views of Cape Town and the beautiful Table Mountain.

image It was a beautiful room, and together with the wonderful smiley and attentive staff I was, indeed, made to feel, presidential. I couldn’t help wondering where the real / other VP DJ had spent the evening……”thank you Mr Dave”.. Perhaps I should try to find a job in mining……..

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Fat Man of Europe What Is It With Hotel Showers?

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