I’m sitting in 1233, the Honors Floor of the EWR Hilton, ready to fly tomorrow to Charleston SC, enjoying it. As the slow breathing of my travel partner drifts over I think about all the hotels I’ve bedded in. I love hotels. It is somewhat of a running gag at GN about my love of luxury bedding. I do well remember some amazing times in some pretty far flung National Geo type places that were far from lux but amazing and I loved them just as much.
I also remember when apps meant over cooked chilled shrimp with a concrete type red sauce, fancy meant a sliver of lemon. I used an IPhone app the other day to choose one night of my stay down south, the 2011 Gold List from Conde Nast Traveler, well tried anyway. Within a few moments my criteria came up with exact totals, 88.7, The Planter’s Inn or the French Quarter. Both seemed perfect by report, well for that luxury devil that abides deep inside. I decided to put off the choice till morning and looked for an app that will choose my breakfast here in the Hilton. Hey why not, my computer probably knows what I want more than I do. Yup sometimes I miss the days when a snake crawled above me while I tried to write under a bare light bulb in Guatemala, deep in some jungle. I can see the app for that now, prefers Fer de Lance to a regular Tree Snake?