Feeling ruffled -

Feeling ruffled
Not in a good space. A run of little troubles has left me aggravated and scratchy, and having written up this unusual state of affairs ready to upload to the blog I managed to wipe it all without having saved a copy.  So this is a second go.
We're in Tenerife to try to claim back money from our timeshare which started as a good idea but has become horrendously expensive and we don't use. Our flight with BA was fine, leaving dreich Kent to land in this balmy place, though unbeknownst to me a nasty row was blazing up within the artists group which I have spent days and days on - too much I guess. Anyway, after a magnificent launch and PV the night before we left, tempers and aggravation and insults and expansions all churned up, and left me angry and divided. I had come away having accomplished something good only to see it part-wrecked the minute I left.
Then for some reason my mobile data roaming is not working - this has meant six long calls back to Tesco whose minions cannot explain or sort it.  So I feel cut off - and of course maybe it's a good thing but I hate it. I am not on control, I suppose.
It might be ok if the apartment had wifi - but it doesn't. There is some signal in the pool-table area of this ghastly complex, but it's very weak and slow.
And the place - a valley which must for centuries have been a banana plantation is now a concrete wasps' nest, with hundreds of small concrete cave - now sadly out of date and worn out.  Our flat has a small terrace in front with a view of walls and concrete parapets. The place stinks of chemical cleaning products. The lights are dim. The security is zero - there is a safe which doesn't work. Access to the useful little courtyard at the back is blocked. The kitchen is very poorly equipped.... No salt and pepper, or washup liquid, or cafetière, or even a sharp knife.  No remote for the TV.
We knew, we did know, it was an old unit they offered us, but this is really grim.  During the night, the whole place - being a sharp steep valley - is an amphitheatre, so we had the revelries, the children crying, chairs scraping, doors banging, feel slip-slap-slopping along the echoing alleyways, the laughter, the perfectly normal noises of hundreds of holidaymakers - all clanging and clamouring round. I did not sleep well.  
We have special 'poor man' wrist bands - these allow us into the resto and the pool area, and indicate we are self-catering.  I wonder what on earth the management does with the left-over newly-bought bottles of washing up liquid, olive oil, butter, coffee, etc which people must buy.... Not all of them rely on the canteen.  There must be trolley-loads of it all every week.

Now, I know perfectly well this is a first-world problem (which doesn't help, to be honest). I know I am tired. I am nervous about the meeting we have to go to in a short while. But seeing la Gomera on the horizon - like some sort of Shangri-La - makes me want to pack up and go as soon as we can. If I had wifi I would be researching it.  To think that six short weeks ago we were on La Palma - in a non-luxury simple flat and having a really lovely time - it's just ghastly being in this prison camp.

Agh! I am so rarely upset and angry. I suppose it does good to write it down.  After we've seen this company who say they can return us our money, though I'm sure they are the original takers - then we can relax a bit. I will try to paint and write and we can explore.