Hotels

We didn't stay at hotels when we went on holidays when I was a kid (a long time ago); we stayed at houses that said they were hotels. This was mostly in Western Super Mare which had hundreds of such places. To wash in the morning you were supplied with a bowl and a jug; I can't remember if the water was hot or cold but it was certainly not the sort of wash I liked. Can't recall anything of the food we ate; of course, there was no menu from which we could choose our meals - they were supplied by someone or other: the wife or husband or one of their kids.
I have stayed in worse places since. Ramsgate. The hotel was either running down or being repaired: the owner spent all his time hammering things. Dreadful.
Like the place Jack Benny said he stayed at when he came to London. Known for his meanness he decided he wouldn't stay at the large, posh place he fancied but the small place across the road. "One thing about it," he said, "was that staying where I did, I had a good view of the grand hotel across the road; better that the view they had of the dump I was in."
There's a comedian at the beginning of Woody Allen's film "Broadway Danny Rose" who says that somebody is stealing one of his jokes. "Which one?" asks a fellow comedian. "O, you know, the one where I book into a hotel and ask the price of bedrooms and the manager says $50. I say $50! He says well you can have one in the basement for $10 but you have make your own bed. Done I say and he hands me the wood and nails and a hammer....."
Which reminds me of a joke told by a comedian and repeated by the reviewer of his performance. "I went on a once-in-a-life-time holdiay. I tell you what - never again."