Suzy Says

I tend to think of myself as a fairly experienced traveller, even though I have never been to Asia and there are still some states I have yet to visit. But I can go to Europe for three weeks with carry-on only, even in these restrictive days, and I can get packed pretty fast, especially for a girl of my high maintenance. And I don’t think a year has gone by in the past 15 years or more that I haven’t flown somewhere, in spite of my horror of flying. So much for facing your fears making you get over them, at least in my case.

So I don’t know why, but for the past three trips I have taken, I have managed to forget something somewhat essential. In October (look out, guys, girlstuff ahead), it was tampons, and I ended up having to buy a brand and type I don’t like at exorbitant hotel shop prices (very similar to airport shop prices). In January, it was my cell phone recharger. Cell phone took one look at the Chicago winter and promptly went to sleep, and I can’t say as I blame it. While I rarely, if ever, have my cell phone on – making it the phone of my dreams: i.e., I can call out, but no-one can call me – this was one time I actually wanted it. Figures. In Boston, I arrived with no camera, digital or otherwise, hence the complete lack of pictures of anything. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

Another mystery facing the traveller is hotel bathrooms. There is never, ever enough room to unpack all of one’s toiletries, make-up, hair accessories, etc., no matter how great the room is*. Though I must say the Drake had the best bathroom of the past three trips, and by importing a luggage stand I could actually unpack most of my girlish accoutrements. The Boston hotel room was huge, but the bathroom was tiny and shelf space non-existent. Yet another architectural mystery.

Final mystery: coffee. In room or not. The Drake had no coffeemaker in the room, so I resorted to my dog-walking attire (coat over pajamas; feet shoved into shoes) to sneak down to the lobby, grab a cup from the buffet and sneak back upstairs before frightening the general public. I am completely paralyzed sans caffeine, and this was not a good way for me to start the day. Also find it odd that a place as swellegant as the Drake didn’t have in-room coffee, other than room service. Now, I’m a big, big fan of room service, but in this case, it entails waiting and still confronting the general public in the form of the unsuspecting waiter.

Boston had an in-room coffeemaker. But on the second day, I woke up to discover that they had given me a clean mug and cleaned out the coffee grounds, but failed to replace the coffee. So there was everything to make the coffee with but the coffee. I stared at the useless machine for a while and considered my options. Finally I decided to actually get dressed and go to Starbuck’s, where I had a triple espresso and went on my caffeinated way. I haven’t done that since the Coffee Emergency of 1999, when Dad and I were in in Italy in a rented palazzo which also had a coffee maker but no coffee, whereupon I got dressed and repaired to the nearest caff&egrave begging for espresso. The Italians understand these things.

*I might as well admit that the amount of stuff I require to render me fit for human consumption is somewhat considerable (which is why I get 75% of the space in the closet and bathroom at home). It was the topic of conversation between my niece and her friend Claudia when we went to Amsterdam together until I pointed out that they were exactly half my age and when they get to this point in their lives, they, too, will require enhancements to their natural appearance. I hope.