Hotels, hotels, hotels. Yes - I'm referencing that 20 storey, dull grey tower housing approximately three hundred bar fridges, double as many annoying guests and if you're lucky, free wi-fi! Welcome to the many reasons why hotels are definitely not my favourite part of holidaying.

Bar-fridges. I think a couple of people probably already know where I'm going with this. Cadbury chocolate, strawberry milk and that amazingly cute packet of mini skittles - sounds like a little kid's dream and a parent's worst nightmare, right? Well, most of the time when you get off a long flight, sign into your hotel and swing open the door to your room - these little packets of deliciously amazing compact sugar will probably be waiting for you in that adorable little bar-fridge. I don't know about anyone else, but as soon as I walk into the hotel room and see my own little fridge, I'm tempted to go Shania Twain on you all and shout out 'honey, I'm home!' - because that chocolate bar and I are about to spend a whole lot of quality time together. Well, that is until I see the price tag. Since when does a chocolate bar the size of my pinky finger cost approximately the same price as the freaking White house on top of Kim Kardashian's cosmetics bill? Food addiction? Hell yeah. Willing to pay $7.00 for a strawberry milk? Hell no. Hotel bar-fridges are big, fat teases and I for one do not feel the need to sell my house, clothes and hard-copy Harry Potter series just to pay for my sugar fix.

Those really really loud people in hotels. Now, I can't get too annoyed at this particular category, because 99% of the time - I am the category. I like singing in the shower - what can I say? But, there are some people in hotels that take 'loud' to a whole new level. There's always that group of rowdy teenagers who decide that bed-time should be pushed back to 3am in the morning - a sincere thank you for waking me up when I was just about to marry Percy Jackson. Jeez, inconsiderate much. And then there's the young family. The couple with the adorable, gappy-toothed, fun-loving little toddlers. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm sure raising kids is exceptionally difficult and I know that the parents of the little ones are probably going through hell and back trying to contain their kids - but sometimes the noise gets a little too much. Like, I know you love Nutella Bobby - (because I mean who doesn't) but I'm sure the grumpy old man in room 43C is not going to love it so much when it's being yelled at 143 decibels at 5 in the morning.

Wifi. Yes, this drives me absolutely ga-ga. The internet, quite simply (and quite sadly), is my life. Put me on a stranded island and ask whether I'd prefer to have a lifetimes supply of food or wifi? Well, that's going to be awfully close. But with Caspar Lee and Gossip Girl calling out to me, I think we know which one's probably going to win. So, when I go on holiday - wifi connection is almost a necessity. Dear hotels that charge about 3 billion dollars for a day of crappy wifi that only connects in the lobby, I'm going to come after you with every member of my online fandoms. With a pitchfork. And I'm not even joking. It seems that hotels, these days, either have wifi that is a) about as fast as the world's slowest snail, b) only connects in the lobby a.k.a the loudest part of the hotel with that one guy who's always screaming at reception about the lack of adjacent rooms or c) as non-existent as my self-restraint when it comes to chocolate bunnies.