Post Title

The hotel

As I didn't quite know what to name this post, I decided to just use what Blogger suggests: Post Title. I had several ideas floating around in my head. Foggy being one. Others were: The taxi; the hotel; back to the past; do I really want it anymore? All explaining some part of what happened to me over the last two days. But let me start at the beginning. That usually seems to help explain things to people who might otherwise be lost in a jumble of words. 

On Thursday I was asked whether I wanted to pick up some 'speiders' (scouts) today (Saturday). Well, getting the chance to do something else than drive according to timetable again was very tempting, so I said yes. Then yesterday I got a phone call: could and would I go to Stavanger earlier and take passengers with me? Since it was very foggy over here, I couldn't see the airport. And if I can't see the airport it's not safe enough to fly apparently. So, I headed to the airport with a big bus, picked up the remainder of the passengers (there were three other buses) and we drove to Stavanger airport. Where it was foggy.

My 'designer' room

I had to drive from Stavanger today, so it was decided I would stay in a hotel. But when I got to the hotel, there was no record of me. Nor did they have a spare room. The receptionist phoned around and a hotel around the corner had one room left. I walked to the hotel around the corner (it was) and found that they did have indeed a room free. But it hadn't been cleaned so couldn't be used. Which meant I was still without a place to sleep. The receptionist phoned another hotel in their aquaintance and lo and behold: a room was available. I did make sure he asked about it being clean though, I didn't want to be caught out again. It was after all 11.30pm! The hotel was about ten minutes away, so I decided against walking and got him to phone me a taxi. 

The taxi arrived and started driving. Eighteen minutes later it stopped at the hotel! I payed the taxi, got into the hotel and got a key to a clean room. This morning I had to pay for the hotel, got into another taxi back to where the coach was parked. Unfortunately I wasn't that familiar with the area. Well, I had never been there before, so I basically knew nothing. I had however been quite clever the night before and asked the first taxi-driver about the address. And we did find it, albeit after turning around once. 

I had been told where I had to go, but since I didn't even know where I was... But Lady Luck smiled on me again as there were two coaches waiting in the parking lot going to the same place I was! I got there in good time, got my people half an hour before they were due and left to take them back home. After dropping everybody off where they wanted to be dropped off, I drove back home. Missed my exit, had to drive the long way round, which turned out to be a really good and possibly faster option.

So, was it all it used to be cracked up to be? Apart from the fact that I didn't really know what was going on, having to sleep in a hot hotel room and having to pay for the lot? Well. Probably. Would I like to return to the touring part of driving a bus? Ehm... Probably not. It was a lot of waiting. It was irregular. It was lonely. And I missed my own bed. On the other hand: the driving part of it was great. Just being able to drive without having to stop every other second because somebody wants to get on or off was fantastic. The different scenery was lovely to see. And I even saw a motorway!! But for now I am happy where I am.