I mention Pedro a lot in my blogs and for the most part I talk about him lovingly, and kindly, as I adore him.

However, today I feel the need to air some dirty linen and share with the world a few home truths about what an absolutely perfect pest he is when it comes to having him as a travelling companion. In all other areas he’s pretty splendid.

Let’s get things straight here. Pedro, despite his name has not got one drop of Spanish blood in him so, just in case any of you were imagining that I am stepping out with a swarthy Hispanic type, I am not. He is a mad, very loud, feisty Irishman, who is packed with so much energy that sometimes it’s a struggle to keep up with him but keep up I have to, especially when it comes to travelling and staying in hotels with him.

On our first evening in the States, having spent the day on a plane and done around 14 hrs of travel all told, we arrived at the hotel in New Jersey, checked in and were shown to our room on the 3^rd floor. We quickly unpacked the stuff we would need for our overnight stay and then left the room to go down to the bar. Half way down the corridor, Pedro said as he always does, ‘Are you sure you’ve locked the room Lottie?’ ‘Yes’ I replied a little wearily  ‘but I’ll check again’. Well as it happens the door wasn’t locked because the lock was broken so after ringing down to reception and then having various bods come to see what the problem was, we were then relocated to another room on the 6^th floor.

‘I don’t like this room’ Pedro said just after I’d unpacked for the 2^nd time. ‘What do you mean you don’t like it?’ I replied. ‘Well, it’s right by the lift, I can hear the lift’

Pedro rang down to reception, I packed up our stuff and we were relocated to a room on the 8^th floor. This time I didn’t bother to unpack. Instead I sat on the bed with my head in my hands because I knew that any minute Pedro was going to hear exactly the same thing that I could hear. The very loud, whirring sound of the drinks and ice-dispensing machine just outside the door.

Approximately one hour after our arrival we relocated to a room on the 10^th floor.

‘Shall I bother to unpack?’ I said to Pedro ‘Or shall I just throw myself out of the window?  We are now on the 10^th floor and there are no floors higher than this one so this is last chance saloon matey, I am NOT moving again’. Pedro muttered something about there being only being one dressing gown and something else but I wasn’t listening by that stage as I’d stuck the pink, foam earplugs in that I found by the bed and was heading at a fast pace out of the room and downstairs to the bar.

That was a week ago. The previous week in London, we moved rooms 3 times over a period of 10 days all thanks to Pedro and now, after our thankfully stationery 3 day stay in a hotel in Columbia, Missouri we are in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

We rocked up to the Hyatt Minneapolis late last Friday evening and Pedro who’d been extolling the virtues of Hyatt hotels all the way in the taxi from the airport, face fell a mile when on arrival it was clearly evident that the hotel was going through a major refurbishment program. The reception area had been relocated to the second floor and he wasn’t happy about the look of the place at all. ‘Pedro, it’s fine’ I said trying to avoid at all costs a re-run of the previous week. ‘No’ said Pedro, ‘I’m not happy, let’s go to our room and then look on the Internet for something else’.

Room 1428 seemed fine to me as we walked in and threw our bags down but I knew in my heart of hearts, it wasn’t going to be fine for the Irishman.

Within a couple of minutes he was on the phone down to reception. ‘Excuse me’ said Pedro briskly. ‘What sort of a hotel do you call this that doesn’t have a safe box in the room?’ – ‘NO, I am not happy, not happy in the least… NO! I want a safe’ – ‘What do you mean you don’t have any safes in the hotel? – ‘What? What! You’re telling me that you’ve taken them all out because of the refurbishment? That’s bloody ridiculous. I’ve chosen the Hyatt specially because I wanted a room with a safe’ – ‘No, I don’t want to bring all my valuables downstairs thank you very much and leave them with you’ – ‘I just want a safe in my room and if necessary I shall change hotels tonight so that I get one’. Pedro put down the phone and I lay on the bed not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

A few minutes later whilst Pedro was making a business call to Jakarta and I was wondering whether it was a good idea to unpack or not, there was a loud knock on our bedroom door. I opened it and there right in front of me was the hotel manager and a porter with a trolley loaded with the biggest safe I have ever seen. The safe was so large that the Bank of America would be proud to own such a thing. The massive 4ft by 3ft lump of metal was wheeled into the bathroom and placed down right beside the toilet.

‘There you are Sir; we hope that this is suitable for your needs. Have a wonderful stay at the Hyatt, Minneapolis and have a wonderful evening’.

I don’t believe that I have ever seen the Irishman lost for words, but on this occasion he was.