For those that have seen the Madonna version (even though you might not publically admit it!), this isn’t my equivalent. But the title is an accurate reflection of what I’m about to share…
There is no hot water at 3am.
It isn’t a case of letting the shower run until some water heater in a neighbouring country kicks in. There is no hot water.
So if, like me, you might need a late night/early morning ablution, the only strategy is one to limit the hypothermic effects of a cold (perhaps cool if you are fortunate) sanitizing experience in an over airconditioned room. (I make my own ‘March of the Penguins’ exiting the shower and scuttling to the wash baisin.)
Fortunately I can boast of my speedy shower talents, so it’s not as bad as it could be.
And in this particular hotel in Jordan, a new personal talent has been revealed: I am still as effective at sleeping on the floor day after day as I was as a student.
I wonder what solutions past guests of room 526 have taken to deal with the little noise pollution problem that results from having a panoramic view of a perpetually busy six-lane highway, with only single-pane glass windows.
Ear plugs? White noise of an off-air TV channel (actually, this seems impossible to find with satelite TV). Drunken sloppy sleep? An overdose of melatonin tablets? Insomnia? Abstinence (from sleep after unsuccessfully trying to change rooms). Sleep from pure exhaustion? An upgrade to the executive tower where the cheapest room starts at 30% more?
Or perhaps, like me, they decided that sleeping in the closet was a good solution.
Yes. After two nights unsuccessfully experimenting with some of the various strategies, the closet option didn’t seem as crazy as it sounds.
So I dragged the bedding off the two beds and set up shop in the dressing area of my room. This is an almost completely walled in area, slightly wider than a single bed with closets and drawers on two sides (great for sound absorbtion).
The door to the bathroom is on another side (next to the mini-bar, which makes cool water, Pringles and Cadbury’s chocolate in easy reach for a midnight snack if one were so inclined), and a somewhat noisy air conditioning vent above.
In other words, perfect.
And so, with one duvet as a mattress of sorts, and another functioning as an actual duvet on top, I am finally enjoying the sleep I deserve.
Speaking from the now acquired expertise of a floor-sleeping human sandwich, I can pass on three pearls of wisdom: 1. The harness of the floor has an inverse relationship to your level of exhaustion. (It’s remarkably comfortable, in fact.) 2. Decorative pillows somehow are more comfortable in this position than made-for-sleeping pillows.
May you never have cause to put this advice into action.