The paradise scene was set as we drove into the ‘Bay of Palms “resort”’ carpark to be greeted by a shopping trolley partially in front of our car park spot and next to a rusted-out hatchback with flat tyres and patinated grime. We wheeled our suitcases along a buckled path past some discarded items and a range of old outdoor items. Upon ascending, we noticed the resort didn't get round to installing yellow hazard signs for the rusted-out iron framework exposed by eroded concrete. Having survived the climb from treading lightly, we were greeted with an aroma of ‘eau de ashtrays’ emanating from first apartment. As we reached our apartment we noticed the splendid views over the lake. Opening the loose and rickety “security” sliding door of our apartment revealed a basic but clean kitchen and living space. Sure, there were stains on the couch, and dining chairs were less inviting than a park bench, but it was tolerable to understand that we weren’t at Sofitel. Bedroom was simple and clean, until the small cockroach revealed itself. The high point was savoured for the bathroom, but we couldn’t decide. Would it be the mint green hue chrome toilet holder developed from coarse oxidisation? Would it be the plastic toilet cistern that is now browning and peeling after serving many years of its labour-intensive service? Could it be the poor shower screen fliction of deeply ingrained brown stains near the base. We think the ‘piece de resistance’ was the hole punched