Ordered breakfast today. It turned out to be a bit of a farce. Now I don’t speak Spanish, or any other non-english language as it happens, but I am well travelled and can quite easily get around using the universally accepted combination of SLR English combined with ridiculous gesticulation. Slow, loud and repeat. Wave arms. Slow, loud and repeat. Nod head and point. Slow, loud and repeat ad nauseum.
Anyway this breakfast. I wasn’t overly hungry, so opted for a large coffee and some toast, which I ambitiously ordered from room service. There was, I felt, a surprising amount of confusion given the simplicity of the event, and I ended up having interactions with no less than three people while I placed my order.
To be honest, I didn’t hold out much hope of getting what I had asked for. But even given my doubts, I was still very surprised to understand how it was possible that my order was communicated so badly that I ended up with 6 tomato halves, grilled and topped with two tpes of melted cheese, two poached eggs, a pot of coffee with two cups and a gigantic put of hot milk and a single Diet Coke. All of which arrived, on two trays, carried individually by two hotel people.
Two slices of toast and a large coffee. 
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