Shoots and travel

Some people love to travel to do shoots in far off and exotic locations. So do I, but I have some ground rules, and you'll nod in agreement if, like me, you're one of those people whose idea of ‘roughing it' is single-ply loo paper.

Here they are:

• 1. Never stay in a hotel renowned for accommodating sports teams.

I made this mistake in 1992 when I booked my crew and myself into a Durban hotel which, in its heyday, was apparently lovely.

The brochure must have been a few decades old because my first impression on booking in was that I had died and gone to hell (I won't tell you its name, but here's a hint: there are more than "Four Reasons" not to stay there).

I should have run when I opened the door to my room and found that it had eight single beds in it.

I should have fled when the warm, moist smell of dirty jockstraps and stale cigarette butts made my head swim and my throat close.

I should have bailed out of the window when I got into bed that night and found my sheet riddled with cigarette burn holes (or were they bullet holes? I shudder). Like Goldilocks, I moved from bed to bed, looking for one that was ‘just right'. The sheet on the eighth bed looked fine on first inspection, but when I found that some dry body fluid was making it stick to the other sheet, I just dry-heaved and went back to my original bed and slept in my clothes.

I should have checked out the next morning when I picked up the phone to wake the crew and a seven-inch Durban cockroach lazed its way out from underneath the handset and scuttled over my yellowed pillow.

Yes, I should have fled to the bosom of Sun International, but no, I had a budget to watch, and so I held out till breakfast. That was the last straw.

Sitting down between the girls under-16 hockey team and the first team rugby players from what must have been a nearby reformatory, we waited for coffee. What was poured into our greasy, cracked cups was something akin to diesel mixed with medical waste. I had second thoughts and opted for the orange juice. It had an aftertaste like Savlon and asparagus, and I came out in a rash, so I left it.

Each member of the crew ordered a different breakfast but when it landed on the heavy ceramic government-issue plates, it all looked the same: grey, gelatinous masses, floating in a sea of yellow oil. It was too much. We just got up, stifling our gag responses, and headed for the nearest Juicy Lucy. At least there, we wouldn't have to battle with cholesterol hallucinations for the rest of the day.

• 2. Never stay in a hotel with a name like "The Ruins"

When you stay in town with a name like Gravelot (yes, it really does exist, look it up), be prepared for the worst. Sun International is not even an option there.

On the upside, this hotel was too small to accommodate sports teams. On the down side, it was so rustic, so rudimentary, so determined to give you that authentic bushveld experience that they provided you with wildlife INSIDE your room.

Normally, I do not travel without an arsenal of poisons and repellents, but this time I had been remiss. The thatch in my ‘room' had an infestation of long thin red caterpillars. These creatures where very restless - hungry, I concluded - and wormed and squirmed their way to and fro across the thatch above me, in a state of perpetual writhing motion.

I lay there in candlelit terror, as one by one, these clumsy worms lost their footing (or whatever the heck it is that worms have) and fell onto my bed writhing and flailing around like something out of a Stephen King novel. With tears running down my legs I ask you, who can get a good night's sleep while being pelted with poisonous-looking red invertebrates?

• 3.Never stay in a hotel with an all night disco, bed bugs and hot- and cold-running hookers.

I don't care if it's one of the largest hotels in the Mother City. I don't care if it is a franchise of one of those mega-chains of hotels. I will never go back to a place where sleep is impossible thanks to music (coming from several floors below you) is so loud it makes your sheets vibrate.

Neither can I stomach the sight of red blotchy crew members again. My production manager emerged from a night of restless itching looking like a poster child for ebola or hives or something.

Those are the don'ts. So here are the do's, when it comes to booking your hotel:

1. Book Sun International or a reasonable facsimile thereof. (And no, I'm not being paid to say that)
   
2. Ask them to send you a swatch of one of their sheets for DNA analysis.
   
3. And ask them to post you a sample of their loo paper. If it's single ply, forget it. If it's triple-ply, tell them you may want to buy timeshare there.

• Republished courtesy of Screen Africa