This morning, at just after 07 am, my favourite Mauritanian hotel surpassed themselves.
I’d had my breakfast and was heading to the car to go to work, when I suddenly remembered something fairly important. I popped back inside to reception and explained myself.
My relief is flying in tonight and will take over the room whilst I take a transit room for a few hours sleep before heading to the airport nice and early to get my plane home.
Our sheets are changed weekly in the hotel, which is fine when we live there, so I asked for them to be changed today for the new arrival.
“Its ok, we changed them two days ago.”
‘Yes, I know, but there’s somebody new coming in, can you change them please?’
‘But they’re clean, you shower every day.”
I went back upstairs to my room, took the sheets off myself and bought them down to reception, laid them on the floor and jumped all over them.
“Right, now they’re not clean, please can you change them for the new arrival?’
‘Yes Sir, but you’ll have to pay a cleaning charge?’