Being a rambler at heart, I like to think of the many beds I've slept in as notches on my travler's belt. In honor of my first Friday Fifteen, here are some of the most memorable...
1. The YMCA on 34th Street and 9th Avenue in New York City. Pretty dumb, I know, especially for an 18 year old Floridian in 1986 who had no idea what she was doing. There was a great diner on the corner that sold a killer grilled cheese for $1.50, the staple of my college diet.
2. A minus one star hotel in Los Mochis, Mexico, with a curtain for a door and a toilet down the hall. I still have no idea why I did that. Why didn't I just go sleep in a tent? It would have been far safer and far more private. I never slept that night...
3. A high rise swanky hotel in Moscow, seemingly the cream of the crop, but sadly lacking in tap water that wasn't a garish green color (this was only a short while after the breakup of the Soviet Union, not a happy time in Russia). And there was no bottled water to be found. Only Coca Cola or Vodka.
4. A mat on the dirt floor of a villager's hut in Nepal in the middle of nowhere. I had sprained an ankle, and had to stop walking for a few days. A lovely family gave us their only private (separated by a curtain) room, and many smiles from ear to ear. A lovely sleep.
5. An incredibly beautiful suite on the edge of the Costa Rican rain forest in a hotel that was way beyond my budget. We wanted a treat for one night. Unfortunately the lush, beautiful beds were full of insects. Invisible biting insects. No sleep that night!
6. A skinny little sofa in a Paris apartment, one of my lonliest voyages. The woman who rented me the room hated Americans as a race, and the damn pillow was a round little cylinder fit only for pillow fighting.
7. A gorgeous bed with white linen sheets on Eleuthera, with the sound of the sea through the open window.
8. The first matrimoniale I ever slept in in Italy, in the gorgeous romantic town of my courtship, Sirmione.
9. A hotel across from the train station in Chihuahua, Mexico. That was not a good idea. In Chihuahua, the train station is also across from the prison.
10. The air mattress in our honeymoon tent in Gargnano.
11. The huge bed of a top floor room in Brussels, where I slept off my first ever jet lag for two days straight.
12. A small twin bed in a closet of a room at the Gramercy Park Hotel in New York. The bed wasn't so great, but I rode up in the elevator with David Bowie. Just me and him...
13. A lumpy, cold bed in Creel, New Mexico. One of the dreamiest and best sleeps of my life up to that point.
14. A bed with a feather mattress in Oho Caliente, New Mexico. I had spent the day floating in the hot springs. A real wonderland.
15. A bed under a window overlooking the Red Sea, trying to imagine Moses.