I woke again at 7:00 AM, the now-familiar rhythm of quarantine life firmly established. Right on schedule, breakfast arrived around 7:45 AM. This morning, however, the delivery was missing its usual apple. In its place, a solitary banana stared back at me from the paper bag. I detest bananas - the smell, the texture, everything about them - and even in my hunger I couldn’t bring myself to eat it.
It sat there accusingly on the desk during breakfast until I finally dropped it back in the paper bag. In a way, refusing it felt like a small act of rebellion, a refusal to give in completely to the system. I did hope that it would be given to somebody else but suspected it would end up directly in the bin.
A far more meaningful victory came with the slip of paper pushed quietly under the door overnight: my Covid test result was negative. Hardly a surprise, yet I still felt the tension lift. Each result wasn’t just a reassurance that my own tests were working correctly - it was another box ticked, one more piece of bureaucracy cleared, and a small but definite step closer to freedom.
The relief didn’t last long. The hotel internet disappeared for most of the morning, leaving me stranded with only my mobile data to rely on. I tried to use the hotel’s network whenever it flickered into life, saving my own data allowance for emergencies, but even at its best it was barely powerful enough to open a website or refresh my inbox. Work, in any meaningful sense, was almost impossible.
By mid-morning I felt tired, sluggish, and oddly drained. In an attempt to revive myself, I dropped the air conditioning to a level that would have been considered ridiculous outside these walls. The cold at least made me feel awake, if not exactly comfortable. The television droned in the background all the while, offering no real distraction but serving as a kind of passive companion - always there, always murmuring, and oddly reassuring in its own empty way.
My midday meal arrived at 12:15 PM, consisting of chicken vegetable soup and a chicken wrap. I was particularly thankful for the small water provided. The persistent light-headedness made me consider filling out the weekly menu request more carefully. Given the past experience, it could arrive again at any day or time.
The chicken wrap which was surprisingly good
My resolve finally broke, and I gave in to temptation: I ordered a grocery delivery from the local Co-op through one of the apps. The order was modest; four big bottles of water. And to nudge it past the minimum delivery threshold; a bag of oranges, some fruit and nut mix, and a couple of pot noodles.
The driver reached the hotel surprisingly quickly, within twenty minutes or so. Then came the wait. Another fifty minutes passed before the bags made their way through the layers of hotel bureaucracy to my door. I made a mental note never to risk ordering anything hot - it wouldn’t survive the journey.
When the delivery did finally appear, the real frustration set in. Everything was there except the one thing I had really needed: the water. A note on the app explained that there was a shortage of bottled water in the UK.
In that moment, the irony wasn’t lost on me – the endless supply of small plastic bottles with the hotel meals, yet unable to secure the one item I had gone to the trouble of ordering.
The afternoon was dedicated to work, though it proved difficult thanks to ongoing issues with a supplier. At the time it felt draining, but on reflection those challenges were oddly welcome. They made the hours pass more quickly and gave me a brief sense of normality - something outside the narrow cycle of hotel meals and corridor patrols.
Later, I treated myself to an orange. Peeling it filled the room with a sharp, fresh scent, so different from the recycled air of the hotel. The taste was simple but vivid, a reminder of real life at home. For a moment, it cut through the monotony and offered genuine comfort.
A simple treat
Dinner - beef stew and rice with chocolate sponge - arrived at 6:15 PM. The rice to meat ratio was not surprising me now.
The rice always overpowered the meat
The absence of delivered water meant I finished the accompanying small bottle in seconds. I decided to refill the bottle from the bathroom tap, and chill it in the fridge, rather than chuck it back in the brown bag.
The evening drifted by, with the television for company, while I made a deliberate effort to avoid my laptop and its unforgiving chair. The dizziness lingered, and I noticed a slight temperature creeping in. Sleep came only in fragments: I nodded off around 10:00 PM, woke again at 1:15 AM, exchanged a few late-night messages with Laura, and finally drifted back into a restless doze sometime after 2:00 AM.
If you want to know the full story of how I ended up in this hotel room, the complete book is available now.
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