Buffet breakfasts in hotels can be a nerve-wracking experience, some folk just waft in so self-assured and do their thing, not me, I try to look nonchalant but am actually desperately trying to take in everything, the layout of the food, the drinks station, the seating arrangements, subtle glances round to get the etiquette right. Is this just me? Is it a British abroad thing? Okay, it does get easier each morning, less of the rabbit-in-headlights feeling as a trip goes by.
The first morning in Chemnitz it was near the end of breakfast when I made it down, the coffee machine began to flash red lights halfway through pouring out a flat white – had I somehow broken it?! Nah, just out of full milk, and relax. One of the staff guided me to a table with one setting (table mat, cutlery, a saucer and condiments), aha, all the tables had varying numbers of settings, noted. That first morning, being so late I just had one plate of food [okay, on reading through before publishing, yeah, that sounds odd – I felt kinda conspicuous being the last one there besides the staff]. I had noticed there were three covered hotplates but didn’t peek.
Second morning the coffee machine had enough milk in it, I dared to start with fruit and yoghurt before going back to check out the hot food. Oo yes! Very crispy streaky bacon, scrambled eggs and some very tasty little pork meatballs. The breads and mini croissants were really nice, they sure make them well in Germany! By the third morning I was trying the cake too, well, it was my last morning there; I would pop back over, get a fresh plate and mug as was the way. Ha, one thing on that last morning, a very officious stern-faced woman came over to ask for my room number, did she think I’d wandered in off the street?! (No-one had asked me the previous two mornings).
Of course, the next morning a different town, different hotel, back to square one. Erm, yeah, another run-in with a coffee machine, no, I won’t go into the details but luckily no-one seemed to notice, phew. This hotel restaurant had fancy plastic pots on the tables, were they for decoration or for rubbish? I kept surreptitiously watching to see what the folk at other tables were doing, not to use it may look dumb, but!? I didn’t, it seemed the lesser faux pas. Just two mornings there, more amazing bread (the rest was great too, but German bread, sooo tasty).
One final morning, now back in Prague, back to eyes flitting everywhere, but something was different. Couldn’t figure it out to start with, ah, English and American voices, so much louder than the voices the previous five mornings! That definitely took the edge off things, yeah, not really sure what that says, haha. The evening before I’d been so aware of conversations around me in the restaurant I ate at, not like I meant to eavesdrop but if people will speak that loudly!
One more thing, do other folk head down to breakfast on the first morning of a stay, not remembering where the room for breakfast is?! Walking slowly, casually, to give enough time to get bearings and hope that the receptionist’s words might come back to you; or is that just a moose thing? I’ll leave you with a picture of the carpet in the hotel restaurant in Chemnitz, odd, I know, but it was such a statement of another time…
