We drove to the Largs Pier Hotel, and stopped in the carpark round the back. Here begins the second uneventful walk.
We walked to the back entrance of the hotel and went in. Passing the toilets on the right, and a door leading to the gaming rooms, we stopped at the reception desk to check in. From here we could see out through the front door to the road, the Norfolk Island pines, the jetty and the sea.
Now we had our room key, and some directions. We walked out through the front door, along the verandah, past groups of people drinking coffee in the sun. Re-entering the hotel through the main entrance we climbed the grand wide staircase up to the first landing where the staircase split into two and turned back on itself. Now taking the left staircase we reached the first floor, crossed the wide landing and, facing the back of the building, turned right and followed the passage round a corner to the end.
We entered our room, walked down some unexpected steps and over to the window where there was a sea view of sorts. You just had to look over the rooftop and the airconditioning ducts, to see two pine trees and the sea.
Now, having established the location of our room, we walked back up the steps, out of the door, and turned right, towards the emergency exit. We went down the emergency exit stairs, through a door at the bottom into a space behind the gaming room and kitchen and through another door into the carpark. Then, carrying our suitcases, we were obliged to walk right around the outside of the hotel past the bottle shop on Jetty Road, past the verandah outside the front bar, to the front entrance. This was because we couldn't use the emergency exit to get back in as the doors had automatically locked behind us.
We carried our suitcases up the grand wide staircase, following the route we had taken previously. Here an incident occurred, so that the walk was not entirely uneventful. Three ladies emerged from the front bar and staggered up the right hand staircase to the upper landing. All three of them were giggling and one had to be supported. Please excuse my friends, said one of the ladies, as they collapsed and giggled all the way to the second floor.
Ignoring the ladies we continued up the left hand staircase, followed the passage to our room and entered, shutting the door behind us. Here ends the second uneventful walk.
Showing posts with label key. Show all posts
Showing posts with label key. Show all posts
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Existence Deconstructed
I believe I understand, said Pliny the Elder, why you held back from offering help to your mother when she was planting her petunias.
You do? I said, surprised.
I do, said Pliny. You did not wish to spoil her pleasure in a small task she enjoys. You did not wish to interfere, or to diminish her dignity as a person.
That is partly true, Pliny, I agreed. The other reason is that I dislike petunias.
Oh! said Pliny, that is a great deal less admirable, Why do you dislike them?
I don't know. Probably because she likes them so much.
Well! said Pliny. Perhaps I should delve no further into this.
Perhaps you shouldn't, I agreed. But tell me, what did you think of my existential companion piece, on the petrol vouchers and gold bottle top?
I did not quite know what to make of it, said Pliny. It was as if you thought what happened was in some way representative of human existence. But any other person would have put down the unwanted petrol vouchers and the bottle top at once.
Where, for example? I challenged.
You were in the car, were you not? I know that car. There are many little nooks and crannies where one might temporarily deposit a small piece of rubbish. The drink holder, the glove box, the space under the radio, said Pliny.
Go on, I said.
That space behind the door handle, the back seat, the floor, continued Pliny, warming up.
You are correct Pliny, I said. Another person may have put the rubbish in any one of those places. And remembered, or not remembered, to take the rubbish inside when they got home. But there is a key to every person. And these two pieces on existence were the key to me.
Aha! said Pliny suddenly, after thinking for a moment. I have it! Inaction!
You do? I said, surprised.
I do, said Pliny. You did not wish to spoil her pleasure in a small task she enjoys. You did not wish to interfere, or to diminish her dignity as a person.
That is partly true, Pliny, I agreed. The other reason is that I dislike petunias.
Oh! said Pliny, that is a great deal less admirable, Why do you dislike them?
I don't know. Probably because she likes them so much.
Well! said Pliny. Perhaps I should delve no further into this.
Perhaps you shouldn't, I agreed. But tell me, what did you think of my existential companion piece, on the petrol vouchers and gold bottle top?
I did not quite know what to make of it, said Pliny. It was as if you thought what happened was in some way representative of human existence. But any other person would have put down the unwanted petrol vouchers and the bottle top at once.
Where, for example? I challenged.
You were in the car, were you not? I know that car. There are many little nooks and crannies where one might temporarily deposit a small piece of rubbish. The drink holder, the glove box, the space under the radio, said Pliny.
Go on, I said.
That space behind the door handle, the back seat, the floor, continued Pliny, warming up.
You are correct Pliny, I said. Another person may have put the rubbish in any one of those places. And remembered, or not remembered, to take the rubbish inside when they got home. But there is a key to every person. And these two pieces on existence were the key to me.
Aha! said Pliny suddenly, after thinking for a moment. I have it! Inaction!
Labels:
dignity,
glove box,
gold bottle top,
inaction,
key,
petrol vouchers,
petunias,
task
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