For years now I have discovered one thing about myself - I am a
creature of comforts who is a tad OCD.
Does my confession sound tacky to you? But that’s the truth. The ugly
truth.
While I love travelling, and I love staying in hotels, I have also made
another discovery about myself – I absolutely hate long hotel stays, even in
nicely-appointed rooms in grand hotels. I hate ‘living out of the suitcase’, a
phrase that denotes the sad state of my homelessness, the impermanence of the
current living arrangements. Where am I? Am I here, or am I there? Oh, I am
definitely there – wherever there may
be.
You might then question my earlier statement that I am a ‘creature of
comforts’. You see, the definition is slightly confusing for my reality. What I
meant by that is contradictory between my love for staying in hotels, and my
need to be at home – tidy or otherwise.
In hotels, my things are mostly scattered around the room. My cosmetics
mostly occupy the writing desk, because I don’t like to put my powders and lipsticks
in the same room where I…ehem…shower and brush my teeth. To bring some order
into the madness, my lip liners, eye liners, gloss tubes of various colours,
mascara wands and brushes will be placed in the hotel glass tumblers - all
holding court on the writing desk for easy access. That means, I can never use
that writing desk to work at. So, where do I put my laptop? Or books? The
laptop will end up on the sofa (so I can’t sit on the sofa anymore), and the
books will end up on the bedside table, perching precariously among the hotel
phone, the master console for the electrical gadgets in the room, the room
service menu, and the writing pad and the pen. Very cluttered indeed!
Then, there is the question of the clothes. The closet space in hotel
rooms is mostly miniscule – your clothes will have to fight for breathing room
with the hotel safe, the ironing board and the iron – all of which are also
crammed in the ‘closet’. My delicates will have to remain in the suitcase which
I can lock when I leave the room because I don’t want to leave them lying
around where the hotel staff could have a look when they come in to clean the
room. The thought of strangers going through my smalls is downright unthinkable. If I’m travelling alone, closet space is not
a big problem. But if I’m travelling with other people, then it is a BIG
problem. I normally just relent and give up the closet to the other person, and
so my clothes remain in my suitcase for days on end. And then the phrase
‘living out of a suitcase’ is true, and very much compounds the cluttered state
of both my physical condition and my mind. There is also the problem of where
to put your dirty laundry – no pun intended. I normally just shove them into a
laundry bag. But what if I want to wear my jeans again? I can tell you that
those will be hanging at the back of the chair for a few days too, compounding the
messiness of the room that I have checked into.
My shoes. OK, you got me! Yes, I do bring with me many pairs of shoes
when I travel – well, one has to be prepared for eventualities, hasn’t one? Minimum
two pairs of sexy sandals – one in a neutral colour like black, one in a fun
colour for casual. A pair of sneakers, because I might just feel like going to the gym during my stay. A pair of
pool sandals, because I might just
feel like chilling by the pool (and ogle hunks). One pair of walking sandals
for walking around town. So, that’s 5 pairs, at the very least. By the time I
check into the nice and tidy hotel room that will be my ‘home’, I will have
lined my shoes against the wall…and already the room looks cluttered. The only
consolation is that my shoes, they are pretty shoes. Hahaha
Then, the food. Hotel food is fine – for all of two days. Then, the
breakfast spread looks the same (they ARE the same!), and then I’d be longing
to eat my own home-cooked meals – either burnt, or lacking a certain je ne sais
quoi, I don’t care – as long as they are food which I have cooked myself.
The point is…I love being in my own space, surrounded by familiar
things. I love that my earrings that I took off one evening last week are still
there on the coffee table - gathering dust, no doubt - but they are there, all
the same, until I put them away. I love that I make my own bed. My bed-making
method might not be hotel-perfect, but I love doing it. I love that my dirty
clothes are in the laundry basket, ready to be laundered only when it is
spilling over. I love that my laptop is on my study table in the study, my
books piled up on the book shelves, and my cosmetics are on my dresser, where
every single lipstick and gloss should be.
I am always happy to leave the hotel and go home - to return to both
the homely tidiness and messiness that are me. Until such times when I’ve had
enough of home, and need to get away from everything and anything familiar.
Then I’d pack my bag for another hotel stay. Oooooh how exciting! And yes, it
will be exciting for all of two days, max.
