I hadn't actually planned to stay in a brothel. I had just gone for cheap digs and aside from the constant wailing of women who only make that much noise if they're getting paid to do so, I would stay there again. The place was clean, it was cheap and they did beer room service (nothing else)! Quite pleasant if I turned up my music!
I felt the swell of my legs and feet as I sat strapped in to the chair of torture. 300 people strapped down, crammed in next to each other in spaces no bigger than themselves. Cold air pumped in and recycled around them to keep them from going off and wardens ensuring all communications are promptly cut to the outside world! My back ached and my mind wondered as I endured another 18 hours of a KLM economy flight (apologies to BA for my last inaccurate report!)! I'd choose a motorbike on a gravel track any day!
It was time to go home and "home" is where my bike is.