we retired to our revolting quarters and read. We had no specific appointments for the next day, but our intention was to see the Pantheon and the Piazza Navonna. We figured we'd just get up and go when we felt like it.
Sometime after midnight, we fooled with the lights and window shade until we got the room dark, and went to sleep.
About 2 AM, some of the lights came on. I shut them off. At 2:15, it happened again. We both got up to check switches, and shut everything off again. Fifteen minutes later, same story. On about the fifth iteration of this, Joyce called the front desk. Up came the technico to accuse us of damaging the system. Really? Wouldn't you have to know how it works first?
Another call to the front desk, three way conversation between Joyce, desk and technico. He ultimately realized he couldn't shut the bathroom lights off unless he turned off the air conditioning, and so told us just to leave the air off and the lights would stay off, too.
Unacceptable. Joyce calls front desk again, and they send us a key for a suite which was a about a mile away in another wing on another floor. This is where we discovered the pukeshake stain you'll see at the bottom.
We gathered up enough gear to "camp" in the "junior suite." Big problem. Only one bed. We tried to sleep in it. Well, Joyce of course could sleep, since she immediately drops off and starts snoring like a calliope every night under any circumstances. If we have the sleep machine between us, I can usually, with drugs, and if her Snore Stop works, which it didn't because a. she left it home and b. the Spanish equivalent is not the real thing, get some sleep, but that's not possible in one bed, no matter how large.
I tried sleeping on a bench, and on the floor, but had to rule out the bathtub because of the jets in the bottom of it. Finally at 6 AM I woke her up and told her to get the hell out so I could sleep for a while, and she went back to the room and I guess tried to get them to fix the short in the system, or whatever it was.
Around 10 AM I went back to our room and we drew up a manifesto with which to assault management. Long story short, they moved us to another "junior suite" with two beds, and when I say "moved," I mean they physically picked up and carried every damn thing from our former room to the new one, including the underwear drying in the bathroom and elsewhere. We told them we weren't going to even be there when they did it, and we left. Joyce also got them to remove the first two nights from our bill, although I think they owed us for all four, and they sent us flowers and candy and champagne, too. And in case you weren't keeping track, we were in FIVE different rooms in that hotel.
In our new hallway, between our room and the elevator, was this authentic modern art etched right into the carpet. We told them about it, but in our remaining time there, no effort was made to clean it up.
Radisson BLU hall carpet pukestain.
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