Probably the best value seaview anywhere in Britain, I took the equivalent of the presidential suite (own room, own bathroom, own Lavvie) and I secretly looked down at the sometimes grungey but always sweet natured.
However, it didn’t end well because I didn’t realise that you were supposed to tidy up after yourself and word of my six-days of presidential larging was quickly comported to a young staffer who declared, with an admixture of vengefulness and pity, that I had been summarily put on the banned list. Ironically, this was perhaps the first longer stay premiers where I hadn’t sneaked a ciggie in the bathroom, and yet I was found guilty, perhaps by dint of the ghosts of ashtrays past crying in the air for retribution.
Anyway, it’s a great place, incredible value, lovely people. It’s just that they set a higher moral standard than that which I’m capable of following. And for these reasons, I apologise and wish everyone well.