Standing on either side of me in the hotel elevator are my colleagues Yanqing and Younghee. Between us we are carrying enough video gear to shoot a documentary. Or porn. Which is probably why the couple that stepped in after us are a tad nervous. Everybody looks somewhere else.

Our home for the next few days is a love hotel, close to where we need to be and more interesting than the chain-smoker stained corporate-drone equivalents. The upside of staying here is that it’s comfortable, and this room at least has superior bathing facilities designed to bring out the water-sports in both him and her. The in-room dining is not much to write home about unless you count menu items designed to appeal to pleasures of the flesh and the lighting options range from “party” to “dim-enough-not-to-care”. This being South Korea the room also has high-speed internet.

The downside is that there is no space to hang clothes. And that only two thin layers of plasterboard away a couple have been arguing continuiously for an hour. It’s easier to work to the of rhythm of sex than the stop-start of raised voices.

Hand scribbled receipts. Looking forward to filing the expense claim.

Taken from my new book Today’s Office, documenting a year in the skies, on the road, and occasionally in love hotel elevators.