Getting back to the Hotel from assessments around four, I was amazed to hear the fire alarm. Rushing out of room I found myself locked out and with my shoe lace trapped in the door. I imagined the flames making their way up the corridor like those kindled by John Goodman in Barton Fink. Notice that I had the presence of mind to carry my camera in the hope of unusual sights.

Little did I know that in the next academic yearthis hotel would be blovk booked by local Farmers and I was booked into a timber adjunct to a seedy hotel in Bailgate, an experience I have uneasily evoked in Grammercy Park's Bailgate zone.