Bill and I have been on the road for nine nights now, and every night I hope to post about our adventures, and every night I am too brain dead to do it justice. So I have a lot of catching up to do next week.
Tonight, however, I just know I will not recall next week. Regular followers will know that I am not so fond of Australian country motels. They perform a function for a price, and since all I really require of them is to get me to sleep and give me a shower, then I am not too keen on spending much money. ‘Ya’s get’s what ya’s pays for’ . . . that’s how it works on the road. I would like to stay in country hotels, but I want an ensuite bathroom, so we end up in budget motels. Some extend the definition, such as the one near a lookout at Dorrigo, which was peaceful and had open views. One external door did not lock properly, but that was not a problem, as the only intruders would be the deer from the back paddock. Another claimed to be nothing more than a budget room, and that was what is was – leaking taps, and light bulbs that did not work. Another room was tiny, and for a few dollars less, we could have had an even tinier room – one reviewer on TripAdvisor said they left their suitcases in their car because they could not fit it in the room.
Now we have arrived in Tamworth, the country music capital of NSW (but that is another story). We will have two nights here, before visiting with a friend overnight, and then returning home.
So I was ready for a spoil, and when I heard the price of this ‘two night deal’ for a four and half star motel, I was over the moon. It wasn’t until we unpacked the car and settled into the room, that I was realised the quoted price was “per night”.
What the heck! There was a time in my life when I would have been sleeping in the back seat of the car. Then, as things got better, I might have afforded one night here, but they would have been calling the police on the second night. The great thing about getting older is knowing that, although you may have preferred to pay less, you can still pay the bill on checkout.
The thing is, this room is humongous. I have spread myself so far that there is a danger I will not find all my possessions when we leave on Friday.
And – the bathroom is about the size of the room in which we slept last night. And – a corner of the room is taken up with a spa bath for two persons.
So here is the dilemma. . . The countryside is consumed with drought, as will become clear when I post some of the photos of the last week. And spa baths need a bucket load of water. So, I should resist. BUT! I have paid a lot of money to luxuriate in luxury (is that an oxymoron?). AND I have returned from a wonderful dinner where I shared a bottle of Australian vino with the man, so am feeling very mellow.
There it sits in the corner of the bathroom. I feel my aching joints calling to be massaged in its adjustable jets. Here in my hand is a bottle marked ‘shower and bath gel’. it is too much to resist. I pour another glass of wine, contemplate taking the iPad into the bathtub (so I can catch up on all your posts), discard that thought and choose a magazine instead – – – and step into the depths of temptation.
I have, however, compromised. I have left the water in the tub, as the weather forecast for tomorrow is high, and perhaps a cold spa will be just as luxurious.
It remains to be seen whether the housemaid will be on my same guilt trip, or whether he/she will let the water out.
Another first world problem . . .