I got off the bus in the rain and headed for a sign that I assumed meant ‘hotel’ in Norwegian or Finnish but which turned out to be a garage/shop/cafe with a funny name.
Sleeping in a garage shop didn’t really appeal, so I abandoned that idea and found a dry doorway to stand and reorganise my things and put on my coat.
I’d read some reviews online before I fell asleep, and the ‘cheap’ hotels all sounded terrible. I don’t know what standards people have, but if no one has anything good to say it gives you a bad impression..
The expensive hotels had much better reviews, but also much higher prices.
I pulled up the booking.com app on my phone to see if I’d missed any on the map.
Almost at the bottom of the [admittedly short] list, there was indeed a place I hadn’t seen listed on the map. A private host, offering an apartment for about the same price as the ‘cheap’ hotels. It was the furthest away, but reasonably close to the harbour. I booked it and set off.
I looked into the cafe to see if they had a toilet, which they didn’t, and hoped I’d make it to the house, 20 minutes walk away.
On the way I stopped to take pictures anyway.. because Jess and because it was sunny and might decide to rain again later.
And then there were hills and curvy roads…and then none of the houses had numbers.
Yay.
I asked someone in a car and she first said she didn’t know which was Nr. 5, and then after driving a bit further she remembered, or figured out, that we were looking at the backs of the houses and the official fronts are on the other side, via a different road. I walked round the house and she helpfully pulled up and pointed out the clearly visible 5 (“See? That’s house Nr. 5”) before driving off.
Gee thanks.
…
No one answered the door when I knocked. There was no answer when I phoned either. Shortly afterwards I got a text to say they couldn’t talk right now. Like the automatic ones you can choose when the phone rings.
I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. And then I went back to the side door and checked the pictures of the apartment door in the advert. There were only pictures of the inside, but the door handle and the windows matched. The door wasn’t locked so I called inside.. no answer.
By this point I was about to explode, so I took my shoes off and went to find a toilet.
Took getting mad at the lack of toilet roll (always carry tissues ;p) to find they’d put the roll on a shelf instead of the holder.
Then I went back outside and sat on their porch for an hour.
I text to say I was here, I checked the booking app to see if I was missing anything…
..and then I gave up and brought my stuff inside.
It looks like someone else was here and no one’s been to clear up in between. It’s not exactly dirty, but it’s not the way you expect rooms to be when you first arrive.
I’ve been here for an hour or so and no one from the house has arrived or written or phoned. I need to go shopping, so I’m going to take the key from the table and lock my things inside and find something to eat for dinner 🙂
I even have an oven 🙂
And a monkey for company……….
Later
the Jess(e)way around 