The last night shift at the Cosmopolitan Hotel, Brighton ended my 14-month suffering and so I had one last breakfast in the Cosmo-kitchen with the cleaners.
Drained of all powers, I sat at the breakfast table and couldn't quite completely appreciate the fact that it's all over. Finally, after all those sleepless nights I spent dealing with drunk English, Scottish, Irish, God-knows-what-ish constantly bitching customers for what this country calls the National Minimum Wage (and I call a joke, at the current accommodation charges).
Two days later, we all met at the beach to savour the wonderful shashlik-s the Jordanian guy - Bara - prepared for us, as his wife was gone to Poland for a few days, and he probably found it a good time for a wee little petite party at the beach, with all the cold beer and good-good food required for a relaxed and laid-back evening after work.
The pictures say it all :)
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