That Bloody Big Banana

Written 3rd June 2009

I’ve reached the third hotel at the end of the third day on my state tour to deliver training in a rather dry procedure. I driven over 500kilometres up the east coast from Sydney, past the Central Coast, the Nabiac Motorcycle museum and the Big Banana. I’ve delivered nearly twelve hours of training to more than 40 people. For the third time in three day I’ve just dined alone in a restaurant full of couple, salesmen and groups of ladies that dine. It feels a bit weird to be honest.

The first night I had a steak and ribs. It came with a side salad and some roasted sweet potato. Lone Star in Tuggerah delivered the goods as always. I arrived just after 5.30pm so there wasn’t much competition for a booth. I was gone by 6.15.

On the second night I needed a break between leaving Newcastle and arriving at Port Macquarie. I stopped in Buladulah at the Plough Inn Hotel for a quick bite. I ordered grilled barramundi with chips and a cuppa. It was cold in the dining room so I kept my cardigan on while I watched Country Music telly and Keno. My fish was dry when it arrived, but tartar gave it a bit of life. The chips where awesome.



My solo dining experience was earned after driving for more than three hours. I went for a walk. I fancied a drink, so driving to food was not an option. I ended up in a little place attached to a another motel called Zack’s on Bent. It was decorated in a simple way but that only highlighted the great art on the walls. There where linen table clothes and polished silverware, I too a seat at a table that gave me a view of a particularly fine example of colour use. I ordered a glass of Oxford Landing Sauvignon Blanc and sticky braised pork belly on brocolini with macadamia, nut crumbled sweet potato, mustard fruits and ribery jus. Sounds flash eh?

My dinner arrived at the same time as my second glass of wine. The waitress delivered it, then produced the biggest pepper grinder I have ever seen, after a giggle and an impromptu photo shoot, I started eating dinner. It was too sweet. I couldn’t taste any mustard on my fruits, which included glace cherries, pineapple, apricots and melon. The pork was good once I’d scraped the fruit off.

The Hotel Curse

Written 1st June 2009

I’m travelling about NSW for work. This is the first day of winter. This is the first night of many were I shall be staying away from home in a hotel.

After driving from home to Woy Woy on the Central Coast, then presenting one afternoon session of training, I drove to Newcastle.

I checked into Travel Lodge. It’s just around the corner from the office where I will be training tomorrow, so it’s perfect. I was given room 411. A nice low number, on the forth floor. I went out to the car to get my suitcase, camera bag and travelling electronics (iPod, GPS and laptop). I stepped out of the lift and started walking, looking at door numbers. The corridor stretched out before me, orange carpet, ecru walls interrupted by ecru doors with small silver numbers, halogen bulbs dropping pinpoints of light.

I realised after passing several doors I had been struck by the hotel curse.

Whenever I have stayed in a hotel, I am ALWAYS, without fail at the furthest point from the lift. It happens every time.

I console myself with the fact that clearly the best rooms are at the end of the corridor.

I can live to dream ;-)

Nose In, Arse Out

Over the weekend, Hubby and I stayed in a motel called the Acacia Motor Inn in Armidale; it’s just off the main road into town and well lit when arriving at night.

It was clean, warmish and provided most of the items required when away from home. There was a bed (extremely hard), a shower (chill to scold in 0.5 second), towels (blue, soft and big enough for a baby’s bottom, but not mine) and mini bars of pineapple scented soap. No mini bottles of shampoo, we had to buy that. They also provided a TV that piped SBS, ABC, channels 7, 9,10 and Sky News into the room. But no internet wireless as promised by the website we booked it on.

For the car windows, a bucket of cold water and a squeegee mop was provided.

The sign on the wall next to the bucket has got me thinking though.

PARK NOSE IN!

Why do I have to park my car nose in?
Is it because they’ve had trouble with others stuffing up the reverse parking action?
Is it because it looks neater?
Why do I have to abide by this weird request?

I would love to know the reason, it’s ranks up there with other strange requests that you see on signs about the place, such as;

Keep Off the Grass
Park Rear In
No Mobile Phones
No Picnics

Ok, I can understand the no mobile one, but the others…please explain.