…always have…always will. I think this love affair with hotels started when I was 10 and my mother picked up this secondhand copy of Eloise. It’s the 1957 edition. I would have gotten it in the 70’s. Yes, it has been knocked around some by me and whomever had it before me. I love Eloise. The minute I read it at 10, I knew she was a being I was simpatico with. She's annoying, opportunistic, endearing to the point of irritating, precocious and smart as a whip. I also like that she is excessively confident and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. In essence, I believe she is the perfect adult to be.
Back to hotels, I love ‘em. I love being able to walk in, dump my bag and then wander off without a care in the world. I like knowing someone else has to clean and produce fresh towels every day. I like the sundry toiletries that are stacked in the bathroom. I never use ‘em. I take ‘em home. Why? Because I can. I like the free tea and coffee and hot chocolate. I smile at the pointy corners on the toilet paper as I remember doing that in another time in my life. I like knowing when I wander back in, knackered and sweaty after a day of rambling, everything is clean and cool and calm. I like air con I don’t have to pay for. I like throwing myself in the pool and floating aimlessly instead of diligently doing laps for exercise. I like wandering down to breakfast and eating whatever I like because I didn’t have to prepare it. In essence, I like to going into hotel-sloth-mode. God, I can hardly wait to do it all again…
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2 comments:
Oh, yeah! I remember the first time I stayed in a hotel. I was 15 and staying with my cousin in a huge hotel in downtown Chicago. It was an entirely different world.
It is grand.
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