This could be a retreat of pampered seclusion but it’s not! The rooms are ample, full-stop. The haunting sound of cockerels, Airbus 300s and farmers taking pot shots at wildfowl wakes you every morning. If you require sustenance, bearing in mind the Big C supermarket is a safari by taxi away, you order 24 hours before. If you do decide to dine the plastic placemats simply reinforce the eccentric quality of the service. You will be transported back in time to an austere age where instant coffee served in a dispenser sits alongside sachets of instant chocolate. A Saturday night watered down green curry results in rapid bowel movement which explains why we get a feast of bog rolls every day. On the terrace and by the pool furniture is conspicuous by its absence as are non-CELTA guests. Finally don’t expect to communicate with family and friend’s, the trickle of bandwidth ensures that you will be in a constant state of frustration and anger which is met by an indifferent response from the charming “Hulk” on reception. “Blame the supplier, same for me!” We have 5 nights left, the course has been challenging but rewarding. The tutors are experts in the ESL field and my fellow inmates have been supportive and blessed with a stoicism that deserves reward. One or two have found the experience less than self-actualising and will maybe leave disappointed, I as many will hopefully not. Oh Le Fawlty Towers, Je T’aime, you will forever stay in my memory.