Four Star Survival

In true Lionel Shriver style: we need to talk about hotel rooms. Despite the many eventualities of the past bank holiday- a wedding, a fever, a child being rescued from a water fountain- I can confirm the four walls of my accommodation were the most exciting. Especially as you realise, upon arrival, that you always get more beds than you need. Me, a single person (unless you don’t count 16 year olds as people in which case, I’m not judging your personal philosophy but, which delusional driveway did you park your car in this morning) in a room with two king sized beds. THIS IS AMAZING. I could fit the whole IT crowd in here, as well as the 4 remaining members of One Direction (it’s probably a good job one of them left, I’m not sure all that hair product in such a tight proximity is necessarily a good thing). We could all just laze around drinking freebie Earl Grey tea and watching… Ah. Dear Hotel Rooms, WHY do you always come with a little plastic leaflet holder advertising your multiple ‘adult only’ channels of which I have absolutely no intention to endorse? Especially when, leaning against said plastic board, is the remote control. I just want to watch Peep Show reruns and chuckle helplessly every time they refer to themselves as ‘urban freewheelers’, stop making me feel guilty for using your facilities in the porn free way they were designed. In protest I will spend my night watching 4OD instead. (Side track: how do you type 4OD? I’m yet to find a way that actually looks acceptable. 4Od. 4oD. 4od. 4OD. No idea.)

Although, to be honest, there are many more exciting things to do in my room than watch TV, one being playing with the bin light. Seriously. The bin has its own light and I’ve grown maternally attached- I’ve personified her and everything. I first discovered Binlight through the highly complex ecosystem otherwise known as hotel lighting; I can provide no stress greater than trying to work out which of the 12 switches will turn on the bathroom light at 2am. (Spoiler alert: you’ll always flick the wrong one.) But I feel light confusion is forgiven once you’ve seen the tray of hygiene freebies next to the sink: shower caps, lavender oil (you can tell it’s a conservative constituency), body shampoo- obviously, all the essentials. I still have no idea what a ‘sanitary bag’ does but I’m sure it can double up as a piping bag if needs be. Of course, the bathroom gifts provide only a fraction of the joy that the tea tray does. Free tea, coffee, hot chocolate, biscuits, shortbread, cheese. How many hotels can you say provide free cheese? FREE CHEESE. It’s like I’m haunted by Alex James’ spirit. They’re all sitting alongside some retro wine glasses and a tiny kettle which can be boiled while I dance to that song about milkshake bringing boys to yards (I’m pretty sure I’m the only one that doesn’t do this ironically). And that’s maybe the greatest thing about hotel rooms- the walls are so thick I can disco without judgement.