I spent Tuesday night in the Novotel near Euston station in London. Nice place, but I can’t help thinking their promise of a “panoramic” view from one of their lifts is slightly hyperbolic. For someone like me who has been fortunate enough to enjoy a number of holidays in Switzerland, the Euston Road doesn’t really count as a panorama.
The other thing is that in a fairly upmarket four-star hotel, there’s no need to attach the iron to the ironing board in the same way that a pen is attached to its holder in a post office. Just a thought. We won’t nick it. It’s at the B&B down the road in Kings Cross that irons need padlocking.
While I’m on the subject, I did once go to a hotel in Scarborough where the wine in the restaurant was kept in a padlocked cabinet. That’s the God’s honest truth. There was also a bloke in a tuxedo who greeted you at reception and then ran round the corner to serve you in the bar.
But back to the Euston iron for a mo. On reflection, the post office pen analogy is wrong. The device is more like those infuriating alarms that are wrapped around leather jackets in department stores. If you drag the iron to the other side of the board, an elastic tension builds up that threatens a catapult effect. On the bizarre injury front, I think that would rate quite highly.