Glorious - a hotel fan-girl review

Mutterings continued.

Day 1, part 1.

Post-hotel, spa-satiated Poss here. Had a lovely time, brought home some hotel booty (only what I'd paid for! The spa wouldn't fit in my suitcase) and feel all refreshed. My pruney fingers are starting to fill out and not look like cheap wrinkly sausages and I smell wonderful.

I decided to go the whole hog, as it were, and upgraded to the double spa suite at the Chifley. I'm guessing that the design of the room is intended to appeal to romantic couples as the spa is next to the, very large, bed. Couple hops into spa, drinks champers while fighting over the side spa jets, gets amourous, gets out, falls into bed for evening of rumpy pumpy on damp sheets (urgh!). The spa was large enough for two people, sitting, or one Poss, completely submerged. I was impressed by the generosity of towelling - two large bath sheets each for the spa and bathroom, ditto bathmats and face flannels. And two towelling bathrobes.

The spa - pristine.

The spa after I'd been at it - note plethora of bubbles left after all the water had drained away.

Actually using the spa was an adventure; there were instructions which advised filling the tub so there was a couple of inches at least of water above the jets. I had overestimated, slightly, somewhat, ahem, the amount of Lush Karma bubble bar needed, and the resultant bubbles obscured the surface of the water. I had no idea what the level of the water in the tub was when I turned the spa on. The resultant spout of water that came out of the tub, hit the back wall, rebounded and flooded the kitchen, made me think that I should have let the taps run a little longer. Cotton bath mats are very absorbent, thank the small gods.

The first lot of bubbles threatened to swamp the room, putting paid to any idea I had of quietly reading while soaking - Jasper Fforde would have ended up as pulp, not an apt description of his writing abilities. I let all the water out, got rid of half the bubbles and started again, this time ensuring that the water level was ABOVE the jets before turning them on.

More pruney than raisiny.

I was impressed by the large bathroom with twin basins - no fighting over the sink with the risk of being spattered by projectile toothpaste. And the loo was a separate room; very civilised. There were three sets of shampoo, shaving cream and moisturiser dispensers - two adjacent to the basins and one in the shower. No untidy plastic bottles littering the place here.

Large bed, on which I slept in the very middle (unlike at home, when I tend to cling to the left-hand side for some reason - most likely because Milo has taken the right-hand side):

After the thorough soaking I wandered down to Hay St for a bit of a mooch before Leece was due to arrive. I found Stoppard's The Real Inspector Hound in Elizabeth's Book Shop. I've been looking for it since we saw it last Xmas. That is, the Xmas before the one we've just had.

Leece arrived around 5ish and took me to have a look at the extraordinary antiquities/curios/antiques shop in the Parmelia Building. Fascinating. I got a call from Rob, who was in the foyer of the hotel, so he joined us. Leece had spotted an ad in one of the hotel lifts for the in-house special - gourmet pie with steak chips, garden salad with passionfruit dressing and a Gage Roads lager to wash it down with. Sounded a winner.

While waiting for the food, L and R introduced me to the ship shoot-em-up game that Rob keeps winning. His record has not been broken, though I did almost take out his mother ship - only 2 more points and I would have had him! Bwahahahah. I came second, which isn't bad seeing I didn't know what I doing and kept asking for help.

The Bill Bailey Trouser Press and Tea and Coffee Making Facilities Rating: 9/10. One point lost when I had to ring Reception and ask for a jug.