My only experience at Babylon, Bkktraveller, was as a visitor to their sauna, 12 or 13 years ago, so I am afraid I cannot help you. But, while we wait to read your report of your own experiences of what happens when you leave your bedroom door open at The Barracks at Babylon, I hope you will permit me to refer to the post by scottish-guy, which I quote below. It reminded me of my one and only visit to The Trades Hotel, Blackpool, in the Northwest of England.
This happened 17 years ago and it started off as an idea to drive from London up to Stoke-on-Trent to enable me to buy a Spode fine bone china dinner service. Then it was decided, while we were in the area, why don’t we carry on up to Blackpool and stay at the infamous Trades Hotel. It was infamous because all sorts of comings and goings happen at night. But to fully appreciate all the inglorious atmosphere of the hotel, it is a prerequisite that hotel bedroom doors are left unlocked. A friend with lots of experience at staying at the hotel advised us to take lots of condoms and lube.Originally Posted by scottish-guy
Well, in my case, things did not go quite as planned. An important fact in this story is that, a week or so earlier, I had been on holiday in Gran Canaria with two friends.
By the way, I thought Blackpool was hideous; the smell of fish and chips permeated the air and stuck like glue to our clothes, which absolutely reeked of fish and chips! After checking-in at our hotel, my three friends and I headed off to a local sauna for some fun.
That night, after dinner, we all set off to a local gay club. Good lord, calling it ‘gay’ was stretching it a bit far. I’ve never seen so many lesbians in a gay club. It was like something out of the 1978 film, Invasion of the Body Snatchers. But instead of aliens emerging from the pods, it was lesbians!
It appeared we had gone to the wrong club and missed a far better one. But we learned of the other club too late. We therefore headed back to the hotel, where my friend, who was a regular at the Trades Hotel, said we would be guaranteed ‘action’.
However, while at the club, I began to feel unwell, my skin felt really itchy and by the time we got back to the hotel, I felt really unwell. I thought I was going to be sick and was not in the mood for any sort of sexual shenanigans. My stomach ached; I probably vomited several times when back in my room. So my door was kept firmly locked. And throughout the night my door was tried many times and I heard many voices requesting me to open the door. Honestly, I felt so bad; I thought I was going to die.
Later, in the early hours, I heard a friend persistently knocking at my door, he wouldn't go away. Ah, I thought, he must be concerned about my welfare. No, he bloody well wasn’t! He asked “Hey [Jellybean] have you still got your condoms? I’ve run out, can you let me have yours?” “Yeah, yeah, [groan, groan] hold on” I said, and dragged myself out of my bed, located the condoms and lube and passed them to my friend.
Talk about bad luck, what an inopportune time to get ill. I missed out on all the fun. And, over breakfast and all the way back to London, I had to listen to my three friends’ boasting about their sexual conquests or, slutty behaviour, depending on your point of view.
Over the next seven to ten days, at intermittent periods, I still felt ill and couldn’t understand what was wrong. I kept promising to see my doctor, but I was hideously busy at work.
Then one morning, while stepping out of the shower, I looked in the mirror and thought perhaps I was seeing things. I got dressed and asked a friend, who had stopped over the night before, if he thought I looked yellow. At first he said I wasn’t yellow and then he asked me to step into the light of the bay window, so he could have a better look. Then he cried, “Oh my God! Yes, your eyes and your skin are bright yellow!”
Then the penny finally dropped, I must have Hepatitis ‘A’. It was confirmed later that day when I saw an emergency GP. For the following six months, I had to abstain from drinking alcohol to allow my liver to recover.
We thought I must have picked up the virus at a restaurant on our second last night while on holiday in Gran Canaria. One friend, a big chap who is never ill, felt too ill to go out on our last night. He never ever misses a night out when we were on holiday. My other friend began to feel really unwell while we were out clubbing during our last night. We ended up returning to our hotel early, but on the way back, the poor guy had an accident and lost control of his bowels. He was so embarrassed. When we returned to the UK, his GP told him he had a severe case of gastroenteritis.
Sorry, Bkktraveller, I have gone slightly off topic, but just regard my post as a filler while we await the glorious (or should that be 'gory') details of your experiences at The Barracks, Babylon. Oh, and one last thing, remember to play safe!
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