This week's topic for Sunday Scribblings is "hotels". I almost decided to give it a miss. When we travel we don't usually stay in hotels, unless you interpret the term rather loosely. We prefer motels (and also use timeshare resorts) - units that come complete with kitchen, so we can cook.
I didn't think I had much experience of hotels, until I started thinking back. There were the blandly similar hotels that I stayed in way back before children. I was a forensic scientist then. I travelled to different towns and cities to give evidence in court. Whille my husband travelled for his work, around the globe, I saw a lot of identical police stations and court rooms in small town New Zealand. Then there were the hotels we stayed in when we relocated from one city to another, while our furniture was packed up and we looked for new rental accommodation. And there was the hotel we stayed in when we decided to travel to Auckland to see an exhibition of da Vinci drawings, and the brand new Kelly Tarlton's Underwater World, taking our eldest three children (the fourth was a bump in my stomach). We don't seem to do things like that any more.
And who ever stays in a hotel in their own city? I had that experience a couple of years ago. It was a prize in a competition - "Summer Sonnets". Part of the Festival of Flowers and Romance. First prize was a spa weekend at a hotel in a thermal resort , second prize was a night in a hotel in the same chain, here in Christchurch, and third prize was dinner at their restaurant. I figured first or third prize would be very nice, so of course I came second! (Well, I was surprised and grateful to win anything). It turned out to be a very pleasant experience - leaving the family who are old enough to look after themselves, checking in, strolling around the city, eating dinner at a restaurant, finding the pool, spa and sauna in the basement and then a night alone with each other before checking out in the morning and returning home.
But what I really wanted to say about hotels is that it would be nice to be in one right now. I want to be in some blandly unmemorable hotel, somewhere warm and very memorable. Instead of here, where it is winter.
Which brings me to the mail order catalogue that came in the mail yesterday. It reads "Spring is in the air! Whcih means we can kick off our shoes and head outdoors again. It's a season full of promise, when bright green shoots appear and flowers begin to bloom. Like a breath of fresh air, everything feels new again..."
Okay, we just had the coldest June for thirty-four years. That's official. We are about two weeks past the shortest day of the year. I am wearing all sorts of woolly layers. At least I am at home, on work days I dress down a bit because it is warmer. (That's one of the bad things about New Zealand - our houses are not built for warmth. But that's another topic altogether.) And now here is this catalogue trying to sell me bikinis?!?
The silly thing is that obviously lots of people do buy clothes so early it's the previous season. Then when I finally get round to wanting new clothes appropriate to the current weather, I find all the styles I like are sold out in my size. It's a good thing I don't care about clothes too much.
Lynn at Sprigs wanted to know why I needed cheering up. It's a winter thing, I think. My body seems to want to go into hibernation lately. I feel low on energy and unmotivated. I was having a particularly grumpy day yesterday, Lynn, when I wrote that comment, but I am feeling much more upbeat today. I might actually get something done. (That hotel would be nice though. Somewhere like Spain, or Paris, or Hawaii).