Hotels that call the rooms they rent out to families ‘Family Rooms’ should be prosecuted under the Trade Descriptions Act.
It really is a misnomer. A more accurate name would be ‘Family Argument Rooms’.
Last week the four of us had a couple of nights in one of those travel taverns where Lenny Henry spends most of his time these days.
The room itself was nice enough but it was just that – one room – with about as much privacy as McDonald’s.
Teenage daughters can be a bit testy at the best of times. But when they’re shoehorned into a room with mum and dad for 48 hours then expect the occasional firework, and even Mario Balotelli’s learnt his lesson about letting off fireworks indoors.
Budget hotel chains of England who charge in excess of £140 a night during school holidays.
Would it kill you to have a room with a wall and a door in it for families to stay?
That way, after a long day of being dragged round the shops, everyone can get some proper rest.
If they did, our kids wouldn’t have made such a big song and dance about going into Specsavers after the first night to get some free earplugs to block out the noise of yours truly snoring his head off during sleepytime after an evening drinking San Miguel and watching The Strypes blow the roof off an underground car park in York.
Anyway, while we were away we made up our minds to get a dog, then changed them beck again when we saw the reaction of one of our cats when he saw a friend’s puppy who came to visit with his owner.
This beautiful puppy, all big eyes, floppy ears and waggy tail, tried to make friends with our Mr Robbie but he was having none of it.
Then he did a thing which I’ve never seen before but will do my best to describe.
Our normally pleasant and docile cat stood on tippy toes, arched his back like the Tyne Bridge and puffed up his tail to twice its normal thickness and stared very hard at the pup.
He looked like All Blacks just before they do the haka. In catspeak it meant f*** off. So he did.