Checking into the Premier Inn was a breeze, smoother than a politician's handshake and twice as sincere. By some miracle of either divine intervention or just plain old good management, they managed to honor my request for a room on a high floor away from the cacophonous symphony of the escalator. So here I am, perched in the lofty expanse of the third floor, a veritable eagle's nest if eagles had a penchant for budget accommodations.
The room itself? Well, it's seen more action than a used paperback. It's crying out for a dab of paint and one of those fancy luggage butler stand thingamajigs you see in hotels that don't count threadbare carpets as part of the charm. But, and it's a big but, the bed is a cloud. Honestly, in all my travels with Premier Inn, I've yet to find a bed that didn't whisk me off to dreamland faster than you can say "room service, please."
Now that I've unpacked my life for the next 12 hours, it's time to venture forth into the unknown wilds of the hotel bar and restaurant. Who knows what culinary delights and liquid refreshments await in this oasis of hospitality?