Oddly enough one of the things I love most about travelling is staying in hotels. Seriously! I'm sure the busy, jaded business travellers who jetset around the world would find the sight of another hotel suite an utter bore but for me, it's always the start of something novel and exciting - and as it's usually the first thing that see in a new destination, certainly the gateway to an exhilarating adventure. So much to see, so much to do - and certainly so much to buy :)
Did the crazy backpacking thing with the prerequisite super-cheap, tacky hostels in my youth and that certainly has its own quaint charm but there's nothing quite as divine as coming back from a hectic travel schedule to a lovely, well-appointed suite facing the sea. Beds freshly made with my shirts nicely folded into neat piles on the side table. Bath salts ready to be tossed into a tub just perfect for a relaxing bath after a tiring day out. And when it comes with broadband wi-fi as most hotels do nowadays, it's practically heaven.
Surely this is one of my odd quirks but as always, staying in hotel rooms gives me this weird, forbidden thrill which brings to mind some of the wicked little assignations I've had before ( terribly few in number, believe me! ) and makes me more than a little naughty. Cute hotel receptionists get saucy winks and hot bellboys get massive tips. And I can easily recall such times like that day in October when I tossed those white sheets with that funny Scotsman in a bed and breakfast in Edinburgh.
Damn. I should have become a jetsetting pilot like Will!