These strange beds are too small, too firm, too tall, or too big. I can’t remember the last time I slept in a bed I found flawless. But I long for it. You know that feeling of sinking into your bed at the end of a long, tedious day. It’s as if you can fluff your pillow, pull the covers up, and disappear on a cloud.
It’s been almost two years since I’ve had that feeling. I’ve been on a road trip, hopping from state to state and staying in short-term rentals. I’ve slept in 25 different beds, but none were my own.
As Goldilocks knew when she went for a walk in the forest, a bed is a very personal, important thing. Lately, I’ve thought of her as I laid on beds too hard, too soft and, well, I haven’t found one just right. My perfect bed is locked in a storage unit somewhere in Chicago.
I’ve learned a lot about humans by the way we make our beds. Each of us has a history of good and bad beds that form our preferences for how we sleep at night. Our beds are our private island. They’re the safe place we go to sleep off a fabulous party, have a good cry, make love, relax, be alone or come together.
Hopping into a strange bed can be exciting too. If the bed is unknown, chances are you’re on an adventure someplace unfamiliar or with somebody new. Part of the fun of adventure is that incomparable feeling of returning home to your own bed. But, these last two years, instead of going home, it’s been more strange beds for me. While my journey has been exhilarating, I’ve come to look at each new bed with weariness. Will it be big enough? Firm enough? Hold me in comfort all night long?
It’s not easy creating the perfect bed. It takes time, effort, testing, money and patience. If you’re coupled, it takes twice as much.
As children, we receive a small mattress, cheap cotton sheets, and a flat hand-me-down pillow. If you got your own bed at all, you’re blessed! Our first bed tells us we’re a real stand-alone person with endless possibilities. Soon we adapt the bed to our comfort. We add stuffed animals, get a new pillow, and change the covers. Eventually, we’ll move up to a bigger bed. This is when customization starts, and we begin to fine-tune our preferences: new pillows, quality sheets, and a specific type of blankets. The options are endless.
How a person makes their bed is an insight into their soul. Some beds are plain, firm and unfussy, while others have many pillows, frills and layers. Some look taught and militaristic, and others plush enough for royalty. There’s much to consider, from the bed size, linens, pillows and even bedside tables. I could guess a lot about my hosts by how they styled the bed.
In Seattle, the grandma who hosted me made a bed with lots of themed pillows, crochet blankets and ruffles. Another, in California, was a conservationist; everything was bamboo, even the sheets. In Mexico, my bed, linens and side tables were all locally made and handcrafted.
But sometimes looks can be deceiving. Plenty of beds looked promising until I felt the bedding and the pillows. Soon, my excitement would turn to resignation. This wouldn’t be a perfect bed either; none of them would be. Because my ideal bed, after a lifetime of experimenting, was locked in a storage unit halfway across the country.
Not that all the beds I’ve slept in have been bad. Most have been OK, and some have been good, really good even, but not perfect like mine. Perfect bed-making takes time, a lifetime in some cases.
Deciding on a mattress alone has astronomical choices. First, you must choose between twin, twin xl, full, queen, king, and California king, whatever that is. Mattress foundations could be innerspring, foam, hybrid, latex, or airbed. Do you remember waterbeds? Of these, each comes with different heat retainment, texture and comfort. But it doesn’t stop there; you’ll also have to know if you’d like very soft ranging to very firm, with a dozen variations.
A mattress is a critical investment and there’s no suitable method for deciding which is best for you. Making the wrong choice is expensive since there is zero after-market for a used one. If two sleep in the bed, it becomes a complex problem, most likely to end with someone preferring the couch. Yikes.
It’s no wonder I never found the perfect bed during my travels. How could I with so many options? Getting the combination right would be like hitting the lottery. It’s not likely some random stranger has the same taste, preference and budget to make a bed as I would.
My Texas twin bed was too small. There isn’t enough room for recreation. Not the kind you’re thinking, but that too. Unless you’re a small child, a twin bed doesn’t have the space to stretch or roll without hitting a wall or falling off.
My bed in New Mexico was a queen, but it was too firm, and I woke every day with sore hips. I didn’t know the damage a bad mattress can do! My body aged 10 years that month judging by my stiff morning walks to the coffee pot.
In Utah, the bed had perfect firmness, but it was so tall I had to leap into it. I need something lower, but not on the ground. I’ve done that when, at the end of a relationship, the division of items left my mattress on the ground without a frame. I once even slept on the floor piled with blankets for a few weeks. That was rough, but not as much as the relationship I left for it.
Some people think king-size beds are a status symbol, but what are they compensating for? To me, it’s too much real estate. If I’m sleeping with someone I love, I don’t mind if they’re close; I’ve already let you in the bed, after all. And if I’m sleeping alone, a king bed is too large, making them seem cold and empty. Plus, king bedspreads are heavy, like weighted blankets that are all the rage but make me feel trapped.
Some strange beds I’ve slept in have nothing but a sheet and one thin blanket, leaving me unsatisfied. Others have so many layers of blankets and pillows I’m smothered by it all. I always toss the message pillows with words like “relax” and “sleep” because how can I rest with all these words between me and comfort?
It took me six months and 15 beds to realize how much I missed my soft cotton blanket and silk-covered pillows. Now I have fantasies about reuniting with my bed, but I’m worried too. What if it doesn’t feel the same after sleeping in so many strange beds? I’m afraid it may seem like any another, but I hope I’ll soon remember its familiar comfort. Then I’ll long for the adventure of strange beds again.
Getting to know a bed, a place, or a person is part of the experience of living. Getting to know them anew is an adventure all its own. In this way, travel teaches us things we didn’t know about ourselves and others. Long-term travel also reminds us of things we forget, like the comfort of a well-loved bed.
Read more stories about travel here.
