Our hotel room has a space-age shower/massager/spa thing on its deck. Made from smooth white fiberglass with lots of nooks and crannies for jets, hoses and lights, curved glass forms doors around the front. Its remote control has about thirty buttons and several pages of instructions. It is the shower equivalent of a Japanese remote-control toilet. We had to try it out.

Water massages you from multiple nozzles, and there is some kind of mysterious nubbed rolling massage bar we never figured out. Water streams from the top of the structure, as well as the sides, and creates a tropical rainforest feeling. And when water fills the bottom "hot tub" part, you can sit in it and feel the jets. There are lights shining from the floor. There is even a stereo system with speakers, which Jason tried to turn on, but there was no reception. We enjoyed the spa and had some dinner, then called it an early night.

The next morning, around four or five AM, we were awakened by some street noise. It reminded us of the ambient noise in New York apartments. But it sounded like government propaganda radio read in a female voice with no interruptions, played really loudly so the whole neighborhood could hear. Maybe some nut was playing the morning broadcast a few buildings down.

"What is that?"

"God that’s annoying."

"Maybe we should call the front desk and complain."


"Hey, do you think that could be the radio in the hot tub?"


Jason ran out to the spa. A few minutes later, the noise stopped.