Memorable Accomodations

I have a fond memory of my brother, tipsy on bowling alley beer and being awake in the wee hours in between night and morning, breaking in half a piece of bacon, discarding the end with the long, black hair spiraling all the way around it, and happily crunched the other end. We were sitting in a Denny's- a 24-hour Florida diner chain whose commercials at the time boasted meals for $3.99. He shrugged and said, "If you're going to eat at Denny's at 2:30, you have to be ready to make some concessions. We split- and thoroughly enjoyed- the free English muffin that came as a conciliatory offering.

Traveling in hostels and budget hotels, I often remember these sage words and usually can take the inevitable concessions in stride.  

Today's concession: the door on my sea view bungalow on a small Vietnam island, which appears to have been built as a prop for a set rather than an actual, functioning security measure.

It's no so much the gap between the frame and the door, which highlights the pitiful, primitive lock, that surprises me. It's the fact that the door quite easily pops out of the sliding track, which is just two raised bars of wood. 

It's the small things that make travels vivid.