Sometimes, the picture *is* perfect.

Hotel rooms are advertised as blissful heaven. You can shed your worries, slip into the comfort of a luxurious bed with down pillows, climate control turning the room into your most cherished destination and drift of into pleasant dreams with nary a care.

But does it work? Does it, bollocks.

Not the advertising, that works alright. But the promise of perfect rest, that's as elusive as the quest to find the Unicorn.

But sometimes, your luck kicks in. Like mine today.

As business trips go, I prefer to travel alone and avoid gatherings of large numbers of people I know and work with. If I wanted to spend time with the lot of them, I'd rather stay in at work. But, it doesn't really matter what I want, does it. So here I am about to spend the next three days in the company of those whom I spend most workdays with anyway. And going by that I should be right hacked off. I was too, till I got here that is.

And now back to my point – hotel rooms. Sometimes, they do deliver.

It's nearly 7'o clock on a fine August evening, I am in the balcony of my room with my feet up and soaking it all in. The hills that surround the hotel, dark laden clouds touching their tops, the gentle rush of the waterfall cascading by, a gusting cool breeze, and when I close my eyes - the sheer absence of anything human.

It's not quiet, but it stills me inside – reminding me where I need look for silence in the madness around me.

It won't last but a little while, but here and now – the picture, it's perfect.