The 'Sheraton' Djbouti.
Laundry was a word that had been forgotten in the mists of time, or at least for a few weeks. Running water was what you got from the local food and air conditioning was something you stole from the engine of a broken down car and installed if you could figure out the rubber bands.
We were only allowed to stay on the second floor as apparently the rats hadn't learnt how to climb the stairs. The hotel was above the most exclusive (only) night club in town filled with more night fighters than the English Channel during the blitz.
The only security provided was to ensure that the said night fighters didn't enter the hotel (unless the pimp had given permission or they were exiting with 'extras/luggage'). The cockroaches would take you for a city tour on their backs for $5 and the mosquitos were so large they were the only ones who got any form of air traffic in the country.
Aside from that it was a right larf!
