It's all about the incense. But no one was incensed.
I reckon I'd been asleep about 40 minutes when the fire alarm went off dutifully and loudly into the quiet English air.
It was a deep sleep too. Had to be 'cos it took me two attempts to work out what the hell was going on. When I saw people on the stairwell in their pyjama's I figured I'd better try to remember where the evacuation instructions are.
Naturally in a fire when everything is chaos around you, you'll find time to grab passport, wallet, phone and room key before you remember to peel back the clothes you've hung on the door that cover instructions on how to make good your escape.
Our point of assembly was the chapel. Good thing too because I hadn't been inside to check it out yet. And it makes complete sense - naturally in a fire we'll all be praying that we survive it. Good thinking.
Gradually the throng built and voices were offered up to heaven, not in prayer but wit and humour and endless 'what the hell is going on, don't they do their fire drills during the day?'
As it turned out, our kimono-wearing colleague somehow managed to quell the noise in the crowd. She went on to explain she had set off the fire alarm when she lit some incense in her room.
But that's not the funny part.
In two staircases they couldn't turn off the fire alarm for 3 hours meaning that for some sleep didn't descend from the heavens until around 3am...
At the risk of repeating myself, that's not the funny part either.
Apparently about three weeks ago a lightning strike from above hit the chapel somewhere on the roof and shorted out the entire fire alarm system. They haven't been able to fix it since.
Now that's funny.
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Sounds like a good excuse to have stayed longer at the pub....
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