Language difficulties

I've been in Manchester for the past week (Macclesfield actually) and I'm having a hard time understanding what the hell anyone is saying. I don't suffer alone: two French guys sitting at the table next to me just spent the better part of five minutes struggling to understand the waitress when she asked them what type of bread they would like.

Waitress: "Wheeeet ur bruuun bred?"

French guys: "Pardon?"

Waitress (slower and louder): "Wheeeet ur bruuun bred?"

French guys: "Wit or bruin brad?"

Waitress: "Brad. Whut type o brad do ya want?"

Me: "She wants to know if you would like white or brown bread."

French guys: "Ahh! We would like rolls."

To be fair, I had to listen pretty hard to catch her drift so it's not surprising that my French friends were struggling.

They really need to dim the lights in this place. I feel like I am sitting in pizza parlor.

I've spent the last five nights at an ancient old manner house which was converted to a hotel and golf club about two-hundred years ago which, coincidentally, was the last time the carpet was changed or indeed cleaned.

I rolled up to the place on the hottest day of the year so far (30 C) and they stuck me in an attic room at the top of five flights of stairs (no lift). Even before I opened the door I could feel the heat radiating from the door. Stepping in I was slapped back by stale, furnace like, air.

I searched the walls for a thermostat, switch or leaver- anything that would activate whatever passed for air conditioning at the time of the pile's construction. Nothing. I called the front desk, "Help! How do you turn on the AC? My shoes have melted into the carpet."

"I'm sorry sir, none of our rooms have air conditioning." Came the reply.

"You must be joking! I'm in a pottery kiln up here and the damn windows don't open more than three inches!"

"That's a security feature."

"A burglar would have to be suicidally insane to try and scale the side of this building to get to my room! You have got to get me into something cooler."

Needless to say I was told that they were full up, "But there is a fan in the closet." I was helpfully informed.

That night I slept naked on top of the bed- spread out like a starfish, fan osculating a steady stream of hot air up and down my body.

I'm going to cut this short because my lack of sleep is pushing me over the edge of exhaustion.

• The next day it started raining and hasn't stopped since
• My room temperature never dropped below the boiling point of lead
• I am now in a different, modern and altogether better hotel only a few miles down the road
• I am freezing my ass off because even though there has been no sunshine for days they've turned the heat off for the "summer"

Thank you and goodnight.