Once you get over the culture shock, Filey is a pleasant spot, particularly at the beginning or end of the summer, when the hotels are half full. The brave go in winter, when the wind can be bitter and biting and Filey resumes its real life as a tiny, introverted fishing community.
When I'm drawing, I only do that at home, really, at my drawing table. But writing I could do in other places. So I've written in airports, in hotels, different places.
Producing is a thankless task akin to hotel management. Unfortunately, there are not too many good hotel managers.
When I was very young, I used to clean up after my parents. If I stay in a hotel, I make the bed and clean the room when I get up, even the bathroom mirror, for which I carry a tiny bottle of ammonia.
I own almost 100 hotels in North America. Some of them are only in management, but some of them we have some small stakes in them.
In late 2009, I returned to Baghdad after a lengthy absence. I was living alone, in the Hamra Hotel, the twice bombed-out de facto international news bureau.
I have legendary massive breakfasts at hotels. I don't hold back. I'll get there at 7A.M. and I'll be the last out at 11 A.M., having gone up and down the buffet seven times.
I've seen such things as you would not believe. I've seen motorbikes driven down hotel corridors - and had a go myself.
When I went to India, I became absolutely obsessed with the idea of building a hotel in India. I've never done a hotel, and I'd love to do public spaces in that culture.
Once I was checking to hotel and a couple saw my ring with Blues on it. They said, 'You play blues. That music is so sad.' I gave them tickets to the show, and they came up afterwards and said, 'You didn't play one sad song.'
After years of hotels, I'm horribly inept at cleaning up after myself.
Every holiday on the calendar, I check in a hotel and fast - I don't eat, I don't drink, I don't talk.
Supergroupies don't have to hang around hotel corridors. When you are one, as I have been, you get invited backstage.
You know, maybe I was just born in the wrong time, but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday, he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.
People equate sexy with promiscuous. They think that because I'm shaped this way, I must be scandalous - like running around and bringing men into my hotel room. But it's just the opposite.
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