Nothing like a Pimms in the early afternoon. Imbibing a drink (or two) at home, means that when the inevitable drowsiness that always follows when I drink alcohol, I can toddle off for a little nap in my favourite place in the whole world – my bed.
I have never been into camping. For me, there is no sense in going somewhere when I will be less comfortable than where I live.
I want cleanliness, (to be honest, if the place was cleaned to my usual home standards, even I probably wouldn’t want to stay there! Cleanliness. in this case, means pristine.) I don’t want to be reminded that someone else has slept in the bed, or sat on the toilet before me – even though they have. Probably, thousands, have!
I want airconditioning. No humidity, no sweltering heat, no freezing in the middle of the night.I have that at home. Okay, if I went to a country where air conditioning was not available due to national decree I would make the most of it. I am talking about “if” I have choices.
I need somewhere I can plug a hairdryer in, if I wish too. Better still, if they supply the hairdryer and I don’t have to lug it from home.
I don’t need a stocked minibar, but I do love room service. I like my late night snacks. Some nights, after a day of sightseeing or travelling, the thought of leaving the room and seeking food is one activity too many. Let me order in a bowl of fries and I will be a happy woman.
I demand ample tea and coffee making supplies. During our last trip, to Melbourne, the cleaner told us the room allocation of tea bags was four per person, per room. Hello, no. We developed the habit of walking down the corridor as they cleaned and self catering our needs from their trolley. Otherwise, I would have purchased my own. One must have tea. And milk. Never enough milk. I drink milk in my tea and coffee.
Once, when staying in Adelaide, we found a blood stain on our white sheet – prior to us entering the bed. Ugh. It was not a happy trip. It was also not the only error in that particular choice of Mr FD’s and he is still learning his lesson on that one.
The bathroom also needs good ventilation. I do not want to have to travel with a candle in a tin to rid the bathroom, and our room, of bodily odours. Not that I have any, but Mr FD is sadly human. Doesn’t take much to install a bathroom fan – in fact make it a fan heater and your will score top marks, Mr Hotel Manager.
Late checkout is a blessing. Not being charged for a late checkout is utterly civilised, but seemingly more rare these days. It is nice to be able to freshen up before that trip back to the airport.
I don’t want to hear the neighbours. I have more than half an acre between our neighbours and our house, at home. I realise that is impossible in a hotel, but at least make sure I can’t hear their voices, their television, or their plumbing. And never their children!. I want to pretend I am the only person there, except for Mr FD. If I can pretend he is not there all the better.
I need decent pillows, and more than one per person. I have neck issues, I don’t function well with a pillow that instantly flattens to the same width as the fabric of the pillow case. If I wake with a headache, your day will not be a happy one.
I don’t think any of that is too much to ask, do you? I am worth it, and if I am going to make the effort to stay in their hotel and be nice to the masses enroute, it is the least they can do.
I like cable television with a full range of channels, as I do, at home. Not just sky news and fox sports. I mean, think of the marketing if you get some unsuspecting visitor hooked on decent cable, and then they might go home and subscribe for the services. Cut a deal. It is the least you can do, for me.
Oh, and towels that don’t smell mouldy. Thick towels that are line dried fresh in the sun. Yes, I have that at home. Not greyish towels that smell like they were picked up from the floor and rehung for the next guest.
The simple things in life really are the best, and a happy Flamingo Dancer means a happy world – for everyone else. Just do it!