“A fucking clown in my bath,” I repeated to the baffled looking receptionist who had absolutely no idea of what I was talking about. I am sure an English speaking receptionist would have struggled to comprehend me, but at check-in, we had established that the woman at the counter had little to no English, so explaining my predicament was going to be even more of a challenge. I was just thinking of how to mime the word clown when she thrust a phone in my face. I looked at it. It had one of those new-fangled translation apps. I pressed the button and spoke clearly.
“There’s a clown in my bath.”
Some Chinese characters appeared on the screen. I passed the phone back to the receptionist. She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and said something into the phone then handed it to me again. I read it.
“Please say again. There is an error.”
“There’s a clown in my bath.”
She looked at the phone and shook her head and spoke again into the mouthpiece.
The machine told me that she’d said she didn’t understand. She wasn’t the only one.
“Let me show you,” I said] into the translation app and passed the phone to her. She nodded and led the way.
I’ve never stayed in a hotel with a bath on a balcony before. But there was a first time for everything. Not a little bath either, but an Olympic-sized swimming pool complete with dragon’s head ornamentation and intricate mosaics. I’d considered using it, but I reckoned it would take over an hour to fill the thing, and seeing as it was minus three outside and there were no curtains to hide my modest from the outside world, I decided to take a more conventional shower before bed. My jet lag was still lingering, but I fell into a well-earned sleep. But it didn’t last long.
It was the running water that woke me up. Gallons and gallons of water splashing into the gradually filling up pool. I lay in bed listening to the gushing sound, hoping that my neighbor was taking a three a.m. bath. But as the water continued to pour, I opened my eyes and saw the frame of light around my curtains. I didn’t remember forgetting to turn the balcony / swimming pool lights off.
I got out of bed and gingerly pulled back the curtain to peek and there it was sitting on the edge of the bath; a red nose, blue wig, orange buttons on its blue and white striped onesie. Its mouth was contorted into a manic laugh and it was doing a jazz hands wave at me. Its huge feet were submerged and the water level was rising up the legs. I blinked and then blinked again but it was still there. I stepped backwards, one step, two steps, tripping over the counterpane that had found its way from floor to bed. Keeping my eyes on my strange creature enjoying my balcony swimming pool and then turned and ran down the stairs as fast as I could.
I hid behind the receptionist as she opened my bedroom door. We moved in cautiously. Strange, the curtains were drawn, I was pretty sure I’d left them open.
“There,” I said miming pulling the curtains. She grabbed the material. I covered my eyes, not wanting to see that horrible creature. I was breathing heavily but if she was scared, she didn’t show it. She whipped the curtains back to reveal a dark empty balcony. No clown, no water, no manic laughter, no jazz hands. Just an empty swimming pool, a dragon ornament and some fancy mosaics.
The woman shrugged, tapped her head to signal I was a bit mental and then left me to it, muttering as she went. I closed the door behind her and went over to the window. I scratched my head. I hadn’t dreamt it. There had been a clown there. But… oh, it must have been a dream. I decided to get back into bed and see if I could sleep. I was just about to draw the curtains when I saw it. In the middle of the bath, a damp, blue wig.
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