'Eine Wurst Bitte?'

Another weekend's come and gone and it really feels like time is rushing by from under the nose. They say time flies when you're having fun - but it seems to fly even when you're not! Fact: time flies, regardless. It's been another long haul at the hotel and though it hasn't been as busy as it can be, after three hours sleep in two days, I'm dead out. Still enjoying the hustle bustle of ins and outs though, what with the church groups, training groups, conference groups and tour groups, it almost feels like a mini global-village and it can be rather entertaining to watch foreigners fall so neatly into the silly stereotypes we Brits have accorded them. Inevitably people from different parts of the world have different, distinguished habits and traditions - Schmidts and Schröders always ask for sausage, Dubois and Durants enquire for hot chocolate ('euuugh, sho-co-laa?'), and of course Patels and Pathans search for doodh (hot milk), without fail. The accents can get pretty difficult to decipher too but it's always nice to be learned in the art of multi-lingual blasphemy (you do get a mouthful of swearing, sighing and ranting if it gets to the 5th time a guest is trying to tell you something and you STILL don't get it), and it's all good really because 6 months later I still feel like I'm learning - and until I'm learning, I'm here. I've become so used to running around while on the job that I do sort of wonder what will become of me when required to sit still, in a chair, to work. I've always told anyone who's asked me that a 9 to 5 job's definitely not for me. I like a little spontaneity in terms of day to day life, so I suppose an endeavour for that constitutes part of the attraction in becoming a journalist or freelance writer. For now though, I guess this job addresses my issues.

Besides, I reckon I've got it nailed if I'm honest 'cause apparently my accent varies according to audience. I speak like a Brit to the Brits, like a freshie to the fre…..….Indians, and seem to entertain my co-workers along the way. I didn't realise I was doing it until my colleague started laughing at me yesterday - but I guess it's a good thing if it means people understand me better… right?! Who needs to learn French anyway when speaking English in French accent does the trick just as well :p ? And so it's here I conclude, because my eyes are stinging from lack of sleep and I can almost hear a jar of Nutella calling out to me, luring me, from somewhere in the kitchen. I'm all set for what looks to be a week of positivity and progress - and I hope you are too. For now, that's all.

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