I Survived the Diepsloot Hotel - True Story!

 

What do you want??

I looked hopelessly at the man, lounging in a plastic chair, leaning precariously against the wall of the veranda of Diepsloot Hotel.

“I want to stay in your lovely establishment.”

That did not have the desired effect of perking up the man. He seemed even more disinterested. “well I suppose that’s possible. It’s expensive though. Is it just you?”

Yes, I said, not put off by that comment which was clearly designed to put me off.

Ok. I’ll charge you R500. And that’s just the room. Everything, everything else is extra. For example, its R100 to clean the room. R50 for a towel. R80 to use the bathroom. And another R50 to get me out this chair to give you the key. A concierge charge, I suppose.

I gulped. He really didn’t want me. But I really really wanted to stay here. I mean, I write a travel blog, and people get bored. This was going to be an absolute blockbuster of a story. It already was. I had to push on.

“That sounds fine. I’ll take it, thank you very much.”

The man took it on the chin. He was clearly trying to hide how irritated he was, as he slowly as he could, stood and began wandering towards what was supposedly the reception door. Inside he took a key from a hook. The only key, and the only hook, and vanished through another door into the bowels of the building. I assumed I had to follow, and soon he was fiddling the key in a lock, which clearly didn’t quite fit the key, until it reluctantly unlocked and he opened it. Then he wandered away.

I walked in. Immediately noticeably was the stark bareness of it. There were two lonely wooden chairs in front of a small table and a TV, the centrepiece of the room. To the side there were two single beds. A door led through to a bathroom. Ok, so he had implied there was no en-suite bathroom just to get rid of me. I went and looked inside the bathroom. It was old, so old it was hard to tell if it were clean or not. Old white tiles had peeled of the wall. An old white enamel steel bathtub was built in. There was a gaping hole around the bath taps, where clearly some plumbing work had been done, and was left open for future diagnostic purposes, I assumed. The basin was also a really old one, and the taps too, 1970s vintage I guessed. I gingerly looked into the also old toilet, with a cracked and loose hanging seat, no cover. I almost shouted for joy to see it was clean.

I walked out and looked at the beds, and the almost shout of joy died in my throat. The funny old threadbare cover was clearly stained. I dared not look at the sheets. Instead I noticed the remnants of scarlet red curtains hanging forlornly over part of the window. I also dared not turn the old tube TV on, it’s proud bearing as the only valued piece of furniture suggested it was used and appreciated to the full be previous guests. Resulting in the stains.

I began to dread my first night at the Diepsloot Hotel.

BTW, Avid Readers, this is a true story so far.