A cool breeze blew in from the sea, just the right kind of breeze that comforts you but makes no noise except the occasional whistle though the grass. The crickets sang and in the distance, just visible, the calm foamy waters of the tropical sea were breaking and gently shrinking back from the shore. At the hotel however none of this could be heard above the crude disco music thudding and pounding through the air like a vicious wind tearing at the ears intent on causing pain.
The building itself was situated in a steep valley that must have at one time held a river or stream now long gone. Dead trees were dotted here and there and a few outcrops of long coarse grass and twisted thorn bushes could be seen. The earth, a shade of orangey brown, was cracking and crumbling. The landscape looked uninviting and uninhabitable but there the hotel stood.
A dusty dirt road lead to the entrance of the complex. It was three storeys high and shaped like the half-moon that was in the sky that night, like they always are in the cartoons. The building looked modern and unreal. In the centre of the crescent shape a pool had been built housing gallons of water greedily when around it the land was dying of thirst. The deckchairs were piled up at the side having earned a rest ready to be put back out again in the morning to make lobsters out of fools. Children were running round the pool edge having fun and paying no heed to the 'No Running' signs that were failing their job miserably.
This was the scene that greeted my eyes as I stared longingly out of the dusty window that night. It was cramped and stuffy in the...