Lucky

We managed to organize hot water for showers between eight and nine in the morning. How they do this in the hotel is not clear to me. Maybe someone is stoking a fire to boil the water in the boiler? It has been storming incessantly for days. Gusts of wind howl day and night around the lonely house where we spend our time. I’m making good progress with my writing and we’ve gotten used to this strange place as much as possible. The deserted corridors from which the plaster is falling and the doors make eerie noises no longer seem quite so frightening. When we go to the Max restaurant in the evening, we take a flashlight with us to show us the way through the Hotel Dracula. The staff is also quite nice, of course we are their only guests for days. Although they don’t exactly ask for work, they make a real effort when preparing breakfast. One is served by a girl and the other by the cook, who is also the house mechanic. “Thank goodness we don’t get breakfast from the mechanic, but from the cook who plays janitor as a side job,” says Tanja with a laugh. “True, but he’s not exactly a great janitor. When I think about it, I wonder what he actually does all day? There are stripped power cables hanging everywhere. You have to be very careful not to get a fatal blow and the toilet has been under water since we arrived. It’s really annoying to be constantly dripping wet in there. My God, what kind of hotel? It’s slowly disintegrating into its constituent parts. Look at the corridors. A lot of the walls are leaking water and not because of a leaky roof but because almost all the toilet sinks are leaking. They produce a gigantic amount of water damage here and nobody does anything about it. In a few years, this flophouse will simply collapse,” I chat. “Nevertheless, it’s good to have stayed here,” says Tanja. “Without a doubt. I’ve made good progress with my updates,” I groan with relief, taking a sip of coffee.

In the afternoon, I open the window to set up the satellite phone antenna. A raging wind catches the treetops and blows its icy breath into our unheated room. I connect the computer, press send and, as always, am curious to see if the transfer to our website works. Suddenly, a gust of wind catches our open window and slams it shut. “Nooooo!” I scream as I realize in horror how the window frame hits the satellite phone antenna. It hangs dangling from the cable at a dizzying height. Holding my breath, I carefully open the dirty hatch, grab the cable and then the heavy antenna. “Phew, that just went well,” I snort with relief. “We were lucky. If the antenna had fallen down there, the transmission would probably have been over,” says Tanja with relief and sits back down in her chair.

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