Dear Sir/Madam,
My companion and I were recently accommodated in your establishment. Following this ordeal I feel compelled to inform in detail of our deep disappointment at the service, facilities and number of walls which you purport to offer.
Our guidebook praised the Forgotten River Hotel most highly, describing it as ‘excellent’. Helen and I are accustomed to wilderness lodgings having frequented such eminent locations as the Delta Ridge Chateau, the Fanthams Peak Motel and the Moss Creek Inn, but never have we been subject to such a dashing of hopes as occurred on this occasion.
On entering the Hotel’s lobby we found a cold hearth, draughty quarters and the remnants of some long dead animal strewn across the mantelpiece. We searched in dismay for the concierge, the mini-bar, the ensuite and the lavatory; all to no avail. Helen nearly broke down on discovering the absence of a bridge table. Our hopes of fine cuisine were dashed as the kitchen and all its staff also appeared to be missing.
Needless to say, the state of the establishment alone would have moved me to put pen to paper. However, it will be necessary to outline the treacherous nature of travel to the relevant premises in order to facilitate an accurate understanding of the gravity of this complaint. Our guidebook promised a ‘lightly blazed trail’ skirting the gorge which hems in the lower section of the Forgotten River. After several hours spent thrashing our way through boggy fens and clambering over steep hillocks bristling with grabbing trees and spiny bushes we emerged into the valley in a most unladylike state. Helen had torn her travelling garments in a most indecent manner and my coiffure was a peasantly array of woodland detritus.
Although the flat expanse of river plain lay before us and one might have expected a jolly walk amongst some rather spectacular scenery it was not long before we were again confronted by ghastly vegetation. We battled with a bristling fortress of spear grass not ten metres from the entrance to the lobby. I can only assume that the groundsman has, like the rest of the staff, simply buggered off.
After a night spent huddled upon the tussock-strewn flagstones we awoke surrounded by a dreary mist that clung to every surface. We nibbled the meagre snacks that we had tucked into our respective purses, our tears of woe halted only by the thought that we would soon be leaving.
Following a stretch of the legs and a wander around the nearby Olivine Ice Plateau we checked out of the Forgotten River Hotel, wishing only to forget our disappointing visit. I would have slammed the door on exiting the premises... but there wasn’t one.
I would like to inform you that we hold you entirely responsible for this traumatic series of events. We suffered as a result of the gross misrepresentations conveyed by the comments in the guide book and the name of the establishment. I expect the moral and legal obligation to rectify these falsifications to be taken very seriously.
Yours Sincerely, Sylvie Admore
A note to the reader:
The Forgotten River Hotel’s status has, on further investigation, been downgraded to that of a five-star rock bivvy, accessible only after numerous kilometres of dense bush and/or glacier travel. The editorial staff take this opportunity to highly recommend this area and the glorious Olivine Ice Plateau at the head of the valley.
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