February 18, 2009


No sooner had I crossed the hotel’s threshold and checked in than I carried on walking straight into a small, infinity ‘water feature’ in the middle of the reception area, falling headlong into its infinity, water splashing up and over other guests who were almost as taken aback as me.

My explanation is that, having just arrived tired and frazzled after a particularly "turbulent" 10 hour flight from the UK, I was suffering from jet lag and the worst place for an infinity pool - ornamental or otherwise - is in the middle of a reception area receiving jet-lagged guests!

I’ve never seen P take a photo so speedily - so determined was he to retain for posterity the image of my staggering partially clothed out of the pool since a number of clothes and I parted company in the process. Not quite an Ursula Andress moment from Dr No - but nonetheless as close, I suppose, as I’ll (or he’ll) ever get…

I’ve rarely seen P so bemused and, armed with the photo, determined not to let slip any opportunity to remind me of the "incident" as he called it. In fact, I thought I’d never live it down until, later that evening, it was P’s turn to even the score.

Ha! Revenge is sweet! Particularly as I'd been feeling a bit miserable in advance of an imminent, unwelcome anniversary. No, not our wedding anniversary. Something altogether more sombre. But more on both in the following posts.

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