I chuckle lightly. It’s somehow enough to wake Mr Snorer and prompt a scowl. My phone buzzes again.
How’s the journey for you?
I take a subtle picture of the occupied armrest and the elbow now digging into my side. He laugh-reacts to it instantly, sending his condolences in the form of a GIF of a tiny violin.
ME:Got any free seats near u?
NOAH:None at all I’m afraid. This train is jammeddd and someone’s not wearing deodorant.
I laugh louder this time. Too loud, apparently. Mr Snorer makes a show of very pointedly inserting his earphones. I swallow the rest of the laugh down and give a quick whispered sorry before going back to my messages.
ME:Got it, I’ll stay where I am.
NOAH:Hang in there, less than 3 hours left.
I glance at the time and do the maths before letting out a deep, agonising sigh. We’re not reaching the station until at least 7.30 p.m. and probably won’t make it to our accommodation before eight.
ME:What a waste of a day. No more long trains pls.
NOAH:Adding it to the ground rules doc as we speak x
It takes us thirty-five minutes to get from the station to the hotel, thanks to Noah’s insistence that we walk so he can ‘stretch his legs’. I tell him that it’s privileged coming from someone with nothing but a duffle, but then he hooks it onto my case and takes both our bags, and I can’t really say no. However, when we enter the hotel sweaty from the walk and grubby from the long journey, I immediately wish I’d fought harder.
After my first few stories went semi-viral, a few hotels reached out offering free stays. One of which was the Grand Palais, a luxury hotel in the heart of Salzburg. We originally only plannedto visit Vienna, but when I relayed the email to Noah he found and reserved a train on the spot, leaving the next day. I can confirm he was right with his urgency. This place is even grander than the pictures.
‘The fridge isstocked!’ Noah says. ‘And they have a free laundry service! I can use all those coins I’ve been saving for something more fun than the launderette!’
He’s practically flying around our room, yanking open drawers and cupboards with the energy of a kid on a sugar high. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear as he pushes at a random button, cueing what I’d assumed was just a wall to slide open and reveal a large entertainment system.
‘Do you see this?’ His head snaps my way.
‘I do,’ I nod, my voice low and hushed.
After over a month of hostels and dirt-cheap hotels, the splendour of this place is a tad overwhelming. The tall ceilings and marble pillars and sweeping floors of the reception alone were enough to knock the wind out of me. I felt myself shrivel into my denim jacket – a little stinky from over a month of constant layering. The receptionist’s eyes widened when his system alerted him to our room – a penthouse suite, probably worth more than everywhere we’ve stayed combined.
‘Am, come here!’ Noah yells from around the corner.
Yes – the corner. This place has corners and multiple rooms and floor space. It’s bigger than Sara’s apartment. Significantly so. So much so that it makes me cringe.
‘I’m serious, come!’
I yell back, ‘I’m on my way!’ I’m too tired and overstimulated to walk any faster. But eventually, I follow his voice far enough to find him standing in our bathroom. ‘Is that...?’
In the centre of the room, decked out in cream marble with magnificent sloping and golden detailing, sits a gigantic hot tub.
‘It has jets!’ he says.
His top comes off, then his trousers as he frantically strips. I shield my eyes as a reflex, shrieking and turning away, but not before catching a glimpse of his incredibly toned torso.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Getting in the tub – it’s been a long day,’ he says excitedly.
‘Naked?’ I ask.
I hear a splash, but I daren’t look. I keep my eyes focused on tracing the patterns of the marble in front of me. I cannot get into a habit of ogling Noah. It is definitely not good for our friendship.
‘In my boxers, calm down. My trunks are still wet from the baths; it’s the next best thing. You coming in?’ he asks.
