Story from an Ashes tourist in Australia or was it Casablanca?

At last I arrive in Adelaide. The game is in two days. Time to find the accommodation.

Travelling on my own I had taken the decision to book into a “backpackers” hostel. These places are perfect if you want to meet people and share the whole Australian Ashes experience with some Poms. Mind you I was not going to slum it in a dorm of 10 people – I invested in a single room for $60 (dollars)

I arrived at reception hot and sweaty as temperatures soared to 38 centigrade I presented my paid booking confirmation and met Rick. A charming Ausi who pulled me to one side and gave me the news. The hostel was over booked and the only room available was in a dormitory of ten other blokes. Rick continued to tempt me. Don’t worry mate, it has air conditioning.

Clearly this was the only option in town as 15,000 English supporters had descended on mass for the game. Beggars can’t be choosers so I accepted the inevitable.

Grabbing a bottom bunk I unpacked my bags with the essentials. England football shirt, Barmy Army Shirt, England rugby shirt and various English caps. It was time for bed, the big day was less than 48 hrs away. It was early, but I was tired and the room was almost empty with my room mates presumably in the town seeking out match tickets, or just chatting with the Ozies about there chances of winning back the Ashes with there “Dads Army” team.

This was basic fare. The mattress was a spongy with springs that poked through and pushed into your body. One single sheet a pillow and that was it. The blanket was $10 dollars extra. $8 deposit in case you nicked it and $2 cleaning. The air-condition unit made a racket similar to an old prop aeroplane engine and recycled the stench of smelly feet and B.O. I plugged in my I pod and closed my eyes. Little did I know I was in room 5, The Room of Death. I have distant memories of sleeping in a bunk bed when a kid – fun times. Not so now, as the bunk wobbled me from a pretend sleep every time my companion above me moved.

2.am Returning from a late night the last of our roomies returned.

3 am The road sweeper lorry arrived and was at full tilt outside cleaning the roads

4 am The snoring went into overdrive – most of the room were woken by the culprit

4.30 am Gave up. Dragged my mattress out side, down the stairs and set up by the door.

5.00 am Cleaners arrive and start duty with noisy vacuum cleaner

5.30 am Rick gets into work – opens front door – sees me on the floor and asks what the matter? I explain. “Oh  – you should have told me mate I could have put you in another room, but they are all gone now”

Later that morning after a call to the agent that booked my room dodgey Rick was more flexible and I found myself in room 6 sharing with just one other nice fella, Matt from London. This had the added benefit of use of the room on my own as Matt found himself a Sheila a few hours after arrival.

That evening it became apparent round the bar that I was not the only one who had booked a single room It seemed at least 10 people had arrived with the same expectation. Somehow, smooth Rick had managed to persuade us all to share, including, rather surprisingly, two girls who were allocated room 5. Little did they know…….. or maybe they did.   

Frank and Don - two Australians who

suffered the same fate with the rooms.