Why are the beds at hotels so much more comfortable than the rumpled, lumpy things we settle for at home? Is it the firmness of the mattress? The tautness of the sheets?
For me, it’s usually about the pillows. The first night at a new hotel involves Goldilocks-like antics, as I sample each of the varieties piled on my bed: no to the rock-hard neck-breaker, no to the silly little square cushions I call Chiclets. Most of the time, I find one that does the job handily, but on a recent trip, I sighed with happiness when my head hit my chosen pillow.
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