Sylvia's Journal

After lunch we walked up the street to see if I could get an internet dangle because there is no internet in the hotel. We didn’t succeed-I would have to go back to Maseru or to South Africa to find it. I will have to make do with my smart phone which picks up private but not work email, and hope it lets me post. It’s a strange experience to be unplugged like this for several days. At least I have TV in my room which brought me more discouraging news from Afghanistan.

I am lodged in one of the brand-new chalets (written ‘ charlets’ on the white board at the reception) at the lower end of the hotel’s hillside estate. The chalets are the latest extension to the hotel that seems to be doing a booming business catering to organizations that do workshops. Three workshops are going on at the same time.

The new chalets (and may be the older rooms as well) are of the ‘ builder-designed’ type -I don’t think an architect or hotel planner was involved. The hotel owner is in the construction business, I learned later.

The chalets have their majestic pillared fronts alternating facing towards the green space next to the pool and upper level accommodations, and backwards, facing the concrete perimeter wall at a few meter distance. I wondered about the decision making process that led to this odd arrangement.

Inside my chalet the room is spacious.There is a wide cabinet for hanging clothes (one hanger) but no drawers or places to put folded clothes unless you pull up the rickety patio chair to reach the spaces above the clothes closet. A small desk tucked in between the window and the closet would be the workspace but there is no electrical outlet anywhere near it to plug in a task light or a computer.

There is also a sort of kitchenette with a water kettle but to plug it in you have to cross the room and crouch down on the ground where there is an outlet.

The bathroom wanted to be fancy but the door bangs into the bathtub each time I open it.The bathroom mirror was hung in such a way that all the tiles chipped, leaving four large holes at the corners and requiring extra nails, sloppily pounded, in to hold the mirror in place. How mirrors are hung is, I think, a good indicator of quality craftsmanship and pride in work well done, everywhere in the world.

But the bed was comfy and I got a good night sleep after watching Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson find love on a tiny TV screen mounted high on a bare wall across from the bed. A space heater, with it’s plastic controls melted, kept the room temperature comfortable after the night chill set in.