One of the places we visited, the first time we went to Europe, was this really tiny town in Bordeaux. This region is widely known for its fine wines, which was one of the reasons we decided to visit there. We picked this quaint-looking hotel, because it was near the train station. This way, so we reasoned, we would save on taxi-fare.Now, picture this: we arrived at the station at about 7 in the morning, and were very tired. So we were looking forward to getting to our hotel and relaxing.
Now being that we were in a place far from the usual touristy stops, we had to make use of our dictionaries and our High School French, as the people we met did not speak a word of English. Or, as we suspected, even if they knew English, refused to speak it to us.
No matter, we managed to communicate with the very surly front desk guy. This man looked as if he hated all foreigners, or was just plain nasty. He informed us that our room was on the second floor, and by the way, there was no elevator. When we asked if someone could help us bring our luggage up, as we were really tired, he gave us this cold look, and said that -- no, you had to do it yourself!
We trudged up the stairs -- dragging our luggage, and found out that the rooms were really small. But the worst part was that -- to our shock -- the rooms only had the bed and a small table with a chair. We were curious: where were the bathroom (the toilet and sink) and the shower? We got out into the hallway, and discovered that at one end of it was the toilet and sink, and at the opposite end was the shower stall. And that this was to be used by all the people on that floor.
To say that we were unhappy with this was an understatement. But, we had no choice but to accept it, and decided to make the best of the situation. After settling our luggage in our rooms, we decided that after the long train ride we had just taken, we wanted to take a simple shower. Ha! This proved to be a not so simple proposition. When I went to the shower stall, in a bath robe of course, and opened the faucet -- nothing happened.
So I go back to my room, get dressed, and go downstairs to mister-not-so-friendly concierge to inquire as to why there's no water in the shower. He gives me this annoyed look, because--we don't use it anymore, we have shut off the water there. Excuse me -- I tell him-- but it would be nice, since we are paying quite a lot of money, if you could open the water so we can shower like civilized people. He answers that -- you Americans are maniacs about cleanliness aren't you? I tell him that's none of his problems and please put the water on! He disappears, then comes back and tells me that I have to go back upstairs and let the water run, and by the way-- if I want hot water, I have to let the water run for a while.
So, I go back upstairs and open the faucet -- this dirty, brown, cold water comes gushing out -- eeeeew! I realized that this would take a while, so I left the faucet running and joined my friends as we went to eat breakfast. It took four hours for the water to finally come out clean and warm. The concierge got really upset with us, complaining that now his water bill would be sky-high thanks to us obsessively-clean, fanatical Americans. We just ignored him and happily took our shower.
