Mr Bean arrived exactly at the time he expected. He was excited – he had pored over all the options and this one was the best, by far: right area, excellent reviews, highly recommended restaurant and a reasonable price. He liked when plans worked ‘just so’.

Except the door to Reception was locked?

He peered through the door and then a window. No sign of life whatsoever. No lights on. No people. Nothing.

He screwed up his face, “This was not part of the plan” he thought. Consulting his iPhone, he noticed a new email from the hotel. “Hmmm” he intoned, in his characteristic way. The email was in German but that did not deter Bean – he fancied his linguistic skills.

Relishing the challenge, Bean smiled as he began to read the long email, silently mouthing the long German words.

This was a bit more difficult than he expected. In fact he was making little sense of any of it.

By accident, he scrolled down and – to his embarrassment – saw there was an English translation. Basically, the hotel was unattended but he could let himself in by retrieving his key from a ‘key box’, the code to which was 3305. Seemed straightforward?

After some hunting, he found the key box in the car park. He had seen a key box before with what resembles a combination lock. But this was a digital version. The sunlight was so strong, it was almost impossible to see the display. Bean eventually made out the digits 0-9 and punched in 3305 but where was the ‘Enter’ key? He punched here, he punched there – no joy.

Much as it galled him, he realised it was time to ask for help. He called the phone number provided in the email and, after being answered intoned “Ah, Jah”, pausing, and then announced “Guten Tag” with exaggerated pronunciation.

The rapid German took him by surprise. He realised his fluency left much to be desired. After a frustrating exchange (he in Gerlish – or was that Englman? – and she continuing in rapid German) he enquired “Sprechen sie Englisch??” uncertainly. ‘Nein!” came the curt reply. He’d just have to crack the damn key box.

Bean punched every combination of keys before and after the 3305 code – no joy. Getting more frustrated all the time, he began to hit keys at random. Suddenly there was a loud crash – to his delight he saw that a key had fallen down – but so had every other key! He turned around nervously to see if anyone was watching. No. He rummaged to find his assigned bedroom key, grabbed it and escaped into the hotel.

Bean was somewhat jangled by the episode. He resorted to his usual routine. Unpack, set out clothes for the evening (he really would like to have had his DJ but that was just too much baggage – even Teddy had to be left at home) and a clean set of cycling gear for the morning, strip off and soak today’s gear in the hand basin for later washing, and then attend to the necessary personal bathroom ablutions.

He sat on the throne a little longer than usual – reflecting on the difficult day. He certainly hoped that dog had survived the encounter with Bean’s left foot – the owner seemed quite cross at the time. And he had been lucky to escape two angry drivers who nearly crashed after Bean pulled a U-turn unexpectedly.

Rousing himself from his reverie, he reached left and then right in search of a toilet roll. The toilet roll holder was there, but that was all. He really could have done with spotting this housekeeping faux pas ten minutes earlier.

Detailed surveillance of the bathroom revealed a box of Kleenex on a distant shelf. That would have to do. He crab-walked to retrieve it and docked 3 points from his future review of the property.

Ah! The rejuvenating power of a good shower! Bean climbed into the narrow shower unit and inspected the controls. He had seen this one many times – pull lever out for water, turn clockwise for hotter, anti-clockwise for colder. The only problem was that it was mounted parallel – and so close – to the shower door, that it was really difficult to adjust.

A blast of cold water made him shout out loudly – an over adjustment elicited a scream when the hot water jetted out. Eventually, he got the right temperature and pressure. “Why were these things so difficult” he muttered.

After a long soak, he shut off he water opened the shower door and reached out for a towel. No towel. “Must be on a shelf somewhere else in the bathroom” he assured himself, docking another point for poor design (wet floor).

After inspecting the bathroom thoroughly three times, he realised there were no towels anywhere. What to do?

He grabbed the duvet from one of the single beds, wrapped it around himself and opened the bedroom door cautiously. No activity. He gingerly exited the bedroom in search of bedroom supplies. Bingo! a tall cupboard revealed a handsome supply and he grabbed a towel and draped it about his torso. The proportions were rather mean but he managed to lock the towel in place.

He noticed a pleasant little breeze on the corridor but, to his horror, realised his bedroom door was starting to close – and he had not taken the key with him.

Desperate not to be locked out, he made a dash for the door. The towel loosened and fell to the floor just in time for a middle aged woman emerging from an adjacent bedroom to get a full frontal. “Mein Gott!” she exclaimed, red faced.

Bean was beside himself. After dressing, he decided an evening meal in the highly rated restaurant would be just what he needed.

Downstairs things were very quiet. Dead even. Turned out the restaurant was closed!

A detour to a nearby pizzeria proved surprisingly satisfactory and Bean concluded things were on on the up. Until his return to the bedroom. It was as if someone had installed underfloor heating and turned it on full.

Bean concluded even his micro jammies would be a burden so he stripped off and settled self-consciously onto the bed, sweating profusely. He hoped Teddy was having a better night.

After a troubled sleep – including a cold shower at 1.30am to cool down – Bean arose early, gathered his things, paid the bill and escaped the Hotel from Hell.

Any resemblance to living persons (especially the blog author) is entirely accidental. Readers should be aware of the extent of poetic licence taken in recounting this story. No animals or bicycles were harmed.