Our hotel, the Hacienda La Laguna, about 8kms outside Baeza, certainly looked the part. And probably in summer, with critical faculties dulled by heat and dust, it´s great. But on a breezy October day, the tiny room looked like an upmarket youth detention centre. And the next morning, our ¨free¨breakfast (that probably should be free ¨breakfast¨) was mean to the point of cynical: pissy industrial orange juice plonked in front of me (I hadn´t asked), and a choice of tostada or tostada to eat. Yes, that´s toast.
Also the receptionist had been to Spain´s front of house charm school, i.e. she took care not to move any unnecessary muscles in her face as she produced our over-weighty bill. Hacienda La Lacuna, alright.
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