I have just returned from a one week holiday in Cyprus. It was a cheap break and we weren’t expecting fantastic weather at that time of year but we stayed in a 5 star hotel with plenty of facilities and a good sea view. We would both have been quite happy to sit and read a few books but as it turned out the weather was really good and we were out walking and cycling along the coast and up into the hills. That left us thinking that we weren’t really taking full advantage of the two swimming pools, spa sauna, steam room and gym at the hotel. So on the third day we decided to remain at the hotel and have a lazy day on the sun loungers. It was all going well until the chop saw and impact drivers started. Over in one area of the vast grounds the guys had started laying new hardwood decking. I ignored it as long as I could but in the end I had to go and have a nose. I then discovered they were also tiling a new pool for children.
Then by the end of the day they started laying large steel trays ready to mesh and concrete. I told my wife that they would soon be pouring concrete into that tray and vibrating it into place. I wasn’t entirely sure how they would get the ready mix lorry in. It turned out they didn’t. It was done by five guys with five barrows. It wasn’t so much that all this activity disturbed us rather that I felt decidedly lazy lying there while others were working. That urge to get up and lend a hand was too much.
We decided to move to the indoor pool area. It was then that we saw the notice. As from the following morning the indoor pool was going to be closed for maintenance. When they said ‘maintenance’ they meant it. In one day the pool was drained and scaffolded out. The next day they took the glazed roof off and attacked the perimeter with 10 kg jack hammers. Thoughtfully the hammers were shrouded in sound -deadening jackets.
In a strange sort of way I felt quite at home there on the lounger reading my book surrounded by this cacophony and It didn’t seem to be bothering my wife that much either. That is possibly the only compensation of having spent the last 30 years living in houses that are constantly being knocked about or ‘improved’ as I like to call it.
That said it felt like masochism, so the next day we put on our walking boots and headed for the hills.