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住五星级酒店的麻烦

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It was one of those book tours. The travel all day, sign copies all evening, talk nonstop ones where you spend every night in a different city.


又是一次新书巡回宣传：整天的舟旅劳顿、整晚都在签名、无休无止的谈话，每个夜晚都在不同的城市度过。



When I'm traveling, my publishers book me in high-design, high-tech hotels, which I normally enjoy to the hilt. But on this tour I learned that the most sophisticated, trendiest establishments aren't always the most comfortable, nor the most practical. In fact, their efforts to be cutting-edge can backfire on guests.


每当外出宣传时，出版商总是替我订好设计感强、科技含量高的酒店，通常我在这些酒店都十分享受。但是，在这次巡回宣传中，我明白了那些最精密、最时尚的设施并非总是最舒适最实用的。实际上，这些酒店力图走在前沿的努力可能会在客人身上产生事与愿违的效果。



The first night of the tour I arrived, jet-lagged and drained, at a stylish boutique hotel in a foreign town. In the black and silver lobby, the receptionist told me I had been upgraded to a suite -- always pleasant information for the weary traveler.


这次巡回宣传的第一个晚上，我抵达异国城市一家时尚的精品酒店，时差还未倒过来，整个人筋疲力尽。在黑色银色色调的大堂，接待员告知我的客房已经升级为套房，这个消息总是会让身体疲倦的旅客满心欢喜。



A sleek, perfumed elevator zoomed us up to a large, snow-white spread. It was perhaps not the coziest place, but it was decidedly impressive. The receptionist showed me how to work the air conditioning, the television, the blinds, the Internet, but I only had one feature on my mind: the bathroom. When he finally left, I rushed into the marble-tiled, state-of-the-art lavatory and . . . stopped. Where was the toilet? Not near the bathtub, not behind a closet door. I searched the entire suite in vain, hobbling about and eventually getting a little weepy.


一台光洁锃亮、喷过香氛的电梯把我们送上了一个宽敞雪白的房间。它也许不是最舒适的地方，但肯定能令人过目难忘。接待员向我展示了如何使用空调、电视、百叶窗以及如何上网，但我心里只想着一件事情──卫生间。等到他终于离开之后，我冲进了铺着大理石、装修时髦的盥洗室，结果......我呆住了。马桶在哪呢？它既不在浴缸附近、也不在壁橱门的后方。我一瘸一拐找遍了整个套房还是没找着，最终我开始有了一些想哭的感觉。



When I at last fathomed how the complicated phone worked, receptionsmoothly informed me that the toilet was 'hidden' behind a mirrored partition. Indeed it was. So well hidden that it had been impossible to spot.


当我终于弄清楚怎么使用房内那部复杂的电话后，接线员流利地告诉我马桶"藏在"一面装有镜子的隔墙后。它真是藏得太好了，几乎不可能找得到。



The next evening, I checked into another chic hotel in a different city. I was to give a speech in front of 800 people and had about 30 minutes to get ready. But figuring out how the shower worked proved as daunting as finding the loo the night before. The shower itself was a photogenic magnificence, an intricate twist of chrome contraptions and knobs. I turned one tap and a blast of icy water hit me in the loins. I yelped and turned another tap, which sent a Niagara of scalding rivulets swooshing down from above. Goodbye, sleek Parisian coiffure. In the photos of the event, I look like a frizzy salt-and-pepper Afghan hound.


第二天晚上，我抵达另一个城市，又住进了一家时尚酒店。马上我就要在800人面前发表演讲，差不多有30分钟的准备时间。然而，事实证明，弄清楚怎么淋浴就像在上一晚找马桶一样令人生畏。淋浴器本身光鲜华丽，有着设计精巧奇妙的铬质装置和旋钮。我打开其中一个水龙头，一股冰凉的冷水浇在了我的腰部。我大叫一声，打开了另一个水龙头，结果一股滚烫的热水如尼亚加拉瀑布一般从上方喷涌而下。我只好和我精致的巴黎风情发型说再见了。在那场活动的照片中，我看起来就像一只毛发蜷曲的椒盐色阿富汗猎犬。



The following night, I was in yet another hotel, in another town. My room was a vast, powder-pink, mirror-layered boudoir. I ordered room service -- soup, bread, cheese and a glass of Champagne -- and was told it would arrive in 30 minutes. An hour and a half later, my tray was brought up by a disquieting clone of Mrs. Danvers, the terrifying housekeeper in 'Rebecca.' When I sat down to eat, famished, I discovered that she had delivered a club sandwich, a beer and tiramisu. I was tired and hungry, and it was past midnight. I couldn't bear calling Mrs. Danvers back up.


接下来的一个晚上，我又到了另一个城市，住进了另一家酒店。我的"闺房"极其宽敞、粉红色基调、层层叠叠镶着一面面的镜子。我叫了客房送餐服务──汤、面包、奶酪和一杯香槟，并被告知这些食物将在30分钟之内送到。一个半小时之后，一个和丹佛斯太太（《蝴蝶梦》(Rebecca)中那个令人不寒而栗的女管家）长得一模一样、令人心神不安的服务员为我送来了食物。我已经饥饿难耐，坐下来准备开吃，却发现她送来的是俱乐部三明治、一杯啤酒和提拉米苏。我又累又饿，而且当时已经过了午夜，受不了再打电话把"丹佛斯夫人"重新叫上来了。



Instead, I installed myself in the cushy king-size bed, wishing my husband were there to share the luxury. I reached to turn the bedside lights off, but the complicatedsystem turned all the lights on instead, in a glaring blaze that made me blink. I clicked again, but only the overhead lamps reacted. After 10 infuriating minutes of fiddling, I got up and found the master switch. Darkness at last. I tiptoed back to bed, arms stretched out in front of me, hoping not to trip. Five minutes later, I realized I'd forgotten to charge my iPhone and fumbled for the light switch. Nothing happened. I groped my way back to the master controls, which seemed to be in another country, plugged in my phone, turned the switch off and crawled back to bed. Once there, I realized that with the master switch off, my iPhone would not charge.


于是，我在舒适惬意的特大号床上躺了下来，盼望着丈夫也能在这儿和我一同分享这份奢华。我伸手去关床灯，但复杂的电源系统却使所有灯光都亮了起来，耀眼的强光让我眼睛无法睁开。我又用手按了一下，但只有头顶的灯光有反应。在恼怒地折腾了10分钟之后，我起床去找总开关，结果最后屋内一片漆黑。我蹑手蹑脚走回床边，双臂在身前张开，以免自己被绊倒。五分钟后，我突然想到忘了给iPhone充电，于是我又摸摸索索地去找电灯开关。结果什么也没找着。我小心翼翼走回总开关那儿，当时它似乎就像在另外一个国家那么远。我把手机插上，关上总开关，慢慢摸回到床上。刚走回床边，我立刻想到，总开关关上的话，iPhone也就充不了电了。



I fell asleep -- until, in the dead of night, demoniacal cackles jolted me awake. I tried to turn on the light. The screeches came again, right next to me. Who was in my room? Panicked, I stumbled to the master switch. Every light surged on, merciless and blinding. I was confronted with dozens of reflections of my bedraggled self, flaunting an upsetting similarity to Mr. Magoo.


最后，我终于在深夜时分睡着了。突然，一阵鬼魂般的说话声将我惊醒了。我试着把灯打开。尖锐的声音再次传来，这次就在我的身边。谁在我的房间？我一阵恐慌，跌跌撞撞跑向总开关。所有的灯都亮了起来，让人炫目。我在镜子中看见了数十个样子狼狈不堪的自己，那副模样像极了倒霉的脱线先生(Mr. Magoo)。



There was no one else in the room -- the locked door by my bed connected to another suite. With increasing dread, I realized that behind the door enhanced with swirling pink motifs, a raucous hen party was in full swing. The ladies were dancing, clapping, hopping, stamping and howling with laughter.


没有别人在我的房间，有这个声音是因为床边一扇锁着的门是连着另一间套房的。我心头涌起一阵恐慌，因为我发现，在那扇炫目的画满了粉红色漩涡图案的门背后，一场聒噪的女士派对正处于高潮。那群女士跳着舞、拍着手、跺着脚、还高声大笑着。



I could not bring myself to share their mirth. It was 4 o'clock in the morning and my wake-up call was in two hours. Assuming, that is, I could work out how to answer the phone.


我实在无法让自己分享她们的喜悦。那时正是凌晨四点，叫醒服务电话将在两个小时后响起。这也就是说，我可以有时间弄懂怎么接电话了。



Tatiana de Rosnay


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