It takes me less than five minutes to exhaust all the possibilities of fun in my hotel room - I have eaten the free biscuit, made a cup of tea, drank the spare milk (one of my guilty pleasures I am afraid), turned on the taps (and off again, obviously), swooshed the curtains, hung up my clothes and charged my mobile. There is nothing else for it, it is time for the gym. Besides, I have to work off my two a day Twirl habit (oh yes, am totally over the food poisoning now and back into bad old ways).
The gym lies deep in the basement, and is not just a gym, but a leisure centre. This means it has a bored person handing you towels, a place to drink orange juice, a plunge pool inexplicitly always filled with elderly ladies using strange circular floats, a jacuzzi, several lounge chairs and a little glass walled gym, so people can watch you sweat. The good thing about the gym is that you can instantly see whether the one running machine is in use, and the bad thing about the gym is that if someone is using it, you may have to hang around pretending to stretch for hours before you get a chance to jump on.
Tonight was such a night, I pulled every yoga pose I could remember from memory in various positions around the busy running machine, but no joy. This meant I retreated to the feared step machine instead, and climbing the equivalent of the Eiffel Tower (ok, 25 floors). By the time the running machine was free I managed 10 minutes and nearly collapsed into the jacuzzi. I get the feeling I will pay for this exercise tomorrow!
My time on the internet is nearly up chums (£6 for an hour! Evening robbery!) and I have some bad music to listen to on youtube before I am done (Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep - Middle of the Road. I am so into it!) I will catch up with you soon. Take care!