Just ploughing through Martin Bell’s top tips for frequent flyers in The Times today. The club regular says he can never sleep on planes – I know how he feels. Even if I do manage significantly less than 40 winks, I invariably awake with a crick neck. The weirdest place Martin’s ever stayed in, so he says, is a dodgy guesthouse in Africa,
In a brothel in Fernando Po, which is part of Equatorial Guinea. I was reporting on the Nigerian civil war and there were no hotel rooms left. It was the day that television had arrived in this Spanish colony and all the Africans were sitting there watching bullfights; it was pretty extraordinary. link
Not sure I can cap that however, I have unwittingly stayed in two brothels in my time – accompanied by my wife I might add. Once in Cambodia and once in South Korea. There’s a very fine line between hotel and whorehouse in some places. Although the wierdest was probably a hammock in a mosquito ridden guardhouse next a lake filled with crocodiles in the south of Vietnam.