He’d said: “If you’re looking for a room, go next door, pick
whichever you fancy, first floor. The key will be in the lock.”
I had chosen the one with the view. A handwritten notice in
reception on a wooden table, where a bowl with apples and another with sweets
had been placed, said: “Plees, wen to chick-out, leef euros uder doore. Bon
voyage.” I thought, this is the place for me.
From The Olive Route by Carol Drinkwater.
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