Where’s the strangest place you’ve had to spend the night while traveling? Canoe ended up on a park bench overnight in Amsterdam (long story.) And on a trip to Turkey, Toque – who arrived in Antalya way too late to find a room – slept fitfully on the airport’s filthy but cool marble floor clinging to her backpack.
Lynn commented:
In a train car on the way to Barcelona Spain. We opted not to book a sleeping car. Never did that again. Spent the night with my head propped on new husband’s shoulder amongst 6 other strangers who all snored and (well you know). Was the most sleepless night ever.
David Tetrault commented:
Took the overnight train from Paris to Venice. Beds were fold-downs, covered with plastic. It was a hot, sweaty night, and not in a good way. Arrived in Venice, walked out the door of the train station and saw…well if you haven’t been there and done that, you need to.
Liana Robberecht commented:
The strangest place I slept overnight was in Bahamas at the Nygard Private Resort ( where I was working) , on the beach with the whitest sand, by the ocean on an over size huge beach couch. It was a beautiful warm night , a million stars were out. I crashed there after working late with some friends….. well, I admit it was a strange place to sleep, it was also one of the nicest!
Liz Tompkins commented:
I tried sleeping on the deck of the ferry from Greece to Turkey with my husband and a lecherous Dutch fellow who was looking for a little companionship. The waves were high, the boat was rocking and the waves were crashing onto the deck soaking all of our back packs and sleeping gear. To make matters worse I felt very seasick and ended up barfing uncontrollably. For some reason this didn’t put off our shipmate who hung around us for the next few days while we explored Turkey.
toque & canoe commented:
Great comments everyone! A trip down memory lane for all of us…
Julie commented:
I’ve slept at the ferry dock, having missed the last ferry of the night and wanting to catch the first of the morning. Also under a tree at a park the next morning, having arrived on the island too early to show up at my aunt & uncle’s house! Ah our early twenties were fun…
Catherine Ford commented:
My first husband and I were on our honeymoon in Germany, in the lake district and he was trying to remember a hotel he had stayed in previously. It was pouring rain, I was driving and getting increasingly frustrated with not being able to find the damn hotel when we drove through an unimpressive small town, name now completely forgotten. The red neon sign Hotel flashed in front of us. We stopped, managed to find the “reception” which could have come straight out of a Law & Order episode when the detectives badger the desk clerk at a New York fleabag. That should have been a giveaway. We were too tired to care. The room had a rump-sprung double bed and a bathroom that was only big enough to contain toilet, basin, and shower, leaving little room for anyone needing to use the facilities. We slept fitfully, forced by the mattress into each other’s arms (not a bad thing.) In the cold grey light of dawn we understood why the desk clerk was so surprised we wanted the room for the entire night. On the other end of the scale, during the same trip, we stayed in the Churchill Room at Clivedon, the old Astor estate in Buckinghamshire, so swanky that when we ordered a drink from room service, the butler brought two classes, a crystal decanter of Scotch, and a silver ice bucket. No chit to sign. The cost was discretely added to the room total, based on the level of Scotch left in the decanter.