It's a bit later than I envisaged being online, and I'm acutely aware that recently I only seem to have blogged when something bad has happened.

 Hey, guess what...

The flight to Holland and the taxi journey were uneventful, really, other than me forgetting to pack my book or the headphones for my iPod... Oh what an exciting journey that was. At least it was only just over an hour. Tis a pity that Copenhagen Airports fancy new gate controllers packed in and they had to do it all by hand, making a 10 minute boarding nearly half-an-hour.

I arrived at the hotel, and the guilty is called the Hotel Haarlem Zuid, about 8:30. I walked in and found the bizarre thing of having to climb flights of stairs to get to reception. How odd! I tried to check in, only to have them claim I only had a reservation for one night, no said I, it's three nights, no said they. And they went to get the fax to prove that indeed I was reserved for three nights... Oh well. Good start.

The room is fine, large with all the basics you'd really want. I was hungry and wanted something to eat. This was a major mistake, and not something I'd ever recommend to anyone else visiting the hotel.

Business travellers are the lifeblood of most hotels. Most non-major chain hotels have to make themselves distinctive enough to ensure that business travellers want to go there rather than the Hiltons and Radissons of the world. And single travellers have to be amongst the most lucrative, as they usually will buy lots of services from the hotel whilst there, as there is bugger else to do!

Someone forget to tell them.

I arrived at the restaurant at about 8:45. 10 minutes later I was still waiting to be seated. It wasn't that they were busy, they just could be arsed to serve anyone. I should have spotted the warning signs then and gone to my room and ordered room service and seethed in peace, but now it was too late, and I didn't have my usual comfort of a trashy novel to while away the evening.

15 minutes later I was still waiting for a menu. At this point I was still enjoying having a quiet seeth to myself. Sometimes it's really good to get frustrated about something of no significance really at all. But this was beyond that, especially when they came to take my order, and expected me to be able to mind read the contents of the menu.

A menu appeared finally, and I placed my order. The soup arrived (tepid) within a few minutes, and was ok, though would have been better if they'd bothered to whisk in all the lumps in the powder mix... Then I waited. And waited. And waited. 45 minutes later I was still waiting for my main course. I seethed, I tutted, I glared at the waiter and manager seemingly to no effect. I lost my rag and bawled out the manager in the restaurant and explained that 45 minutes between courses was a tad excessive (it may have been phrased a little differently, but I'm sure you get my drift!). A mad panic ensued, and my main course arrived. It was ok, again tepid rather than hot, but edible. And then another wait. A long wait. 40 minutes and still no sign of my pudding course. I'd had enough. The waiter appeared and asked if he could get me the bill. No, said I, he could get the manager as I had been waiting for my pudding for now some 45 minutes, and it was 2 hours since I originally arrived at the restaurant. He arrived, he apologised, and could give me no explanation as to what had happened, but he was sure I'd be coming back tomorrow to experience the "normal" service.

I explained that I doubted it, and that it even made the funeral home hotel in Croatia look like a 5* hotel. He was mortified. My pudding arrived. By now I was beyond eating and just glared at the damn thing, and pushed it away. The manager apologised again, and said he'd make it right, and look after me tomorrow. I pointed out I'd only be there tomorrow if I could find nothing else nearby, and he'd only narrowly beat the option of a MaccyDs where I haven't eaten in well over 10 years. The rest of the restaurant was looking, he got uncomfy finally, and I just had had enough.

I left, and refused to pay. He offered me a free drink to say "sorry". I asked for a Gin and Tonic and he offered to send it to my room. Fine, thought I, I'm not paying, but at least I'll have a nice drink. I got to my room. 15 minutes later, no drink. Then the phone rang. "Sorry, sir, we're out of Gin. It'll be about 10 - 15 minutes more, we've sent someone out to buy a new bottle...."

Nuff said.