I have been pondering what people nick from hotel rooms.
When I was younger I used to take everything that I regarded as a freebie, and ended up with an enormous collection of hotel soaps, shower gel, and shampoo. Most of the time now I can resist the temptation, unless I’m running short. Bar soap is only intermittently available in hotels, as is conditioner, so I’ll be more likely to liberate those, especially if I’m early on in my journey.
We got a nasty shock in our airbnb on the Algarve – no toiletries at all! I was pleased to have a range with me from earlier this trip. Our companions weren’t so well prepared: they went out and bought some. For about the price of one starter at any of our dinners, its true, but cost is not the issue. That wasn’t the worst part, though: when we left a couple of days later, they deliberately left them all behind. If I could have snuck into their bathroom and taken them with me while retaining any shred of dignity, I would have done so, believe me. Walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
The quality of the toiletries on offer makes a difference, also. Last year we stayed at a posh hotel in Dubai, and all the bathroom products came in toothpaste style tubes. Needless to say, they came with me (and are still unopened in the bathroom drawer). It’s not just a matter of how posh they are, though. You need secure lids so they don’t empty their contents all over your luggage.
I’ve never taken anything I know I shouldn’t, like towels or dressing gowns, but I think stuff you know they’re going to throw out, like slippers, is fair game. Borderline perhaps is things like shaving, dental, or sewing kits. They are there to be used in need, how do they know whether that need is now or at some unspecified time in the future?
There have been a couple of firsts for me on this trip. A small disposable shoe horn from somewhere in Italy, as I’ve been having trouble with my sneakers. And then there’s this handsome chap.
He is the mascot at the Don Ramon hotel in Seville, and he appeared every evening on our bed along with a little chocolate on the pillow. He’s for sale in the gift shop for 20€ which I could easily afford, but that wasn’t the point. He was ours, it was him or no one, but it felt wrong just to take him with us. Luckily, Rita did the sensible thing and asked the concierge if he was ours to take. I have him with me now.