Pillow talk, part 2 

We boarded the Eurostar back to Rome from the busy but, clean & well-organised, Santa Maria Novella station. It only takes an hour and a half, so by the time we had played the ‘spot the ripe-for-development Tuscan ruin’, and listened to numerous Italian mobile phone conversations – very interesting at first, but the novelty quickly wears off – we were there.

Being suckers for pillow punishment, we were staying in two different hotels for our 6 night stay in Rome; the Hotel Raffaelo in the city - very handy for excellent clothes shops - and the Hilton Cavalieri, which, according to one Sunday newspaper supplement, is one of the 10 best hotels in the world.

We were in the attic at the ‘Raffaelo’, which we didn’t mind, as we had our own large terrace and were devoid of a long, echoing corridor - so no slamming doors. All good so far, but I seem to have said that before. Deep joy this time as the pillow is fab, just how I like it; I am grinning happily. Husband (with bad back), checks out the bed, “it’s a camp bed!” he cries. “The mattress is thinner than a thin slice of bread”. I can’t believe it. I stop being triumphant and have a look, he’s right, it would be pushed to make a medium slice. It’s too late in the day to do anything about it, so yet another sleepless night ensues. We battle on though, as with the amount of fresh air – as fresh as it can be in the centre of Rome – and walking during the day, and more walking and pasta and red wine at night, it’s not difficult to fall asleep even on a creaky old camp bed.

We had high hopes of the ‘Cavalieri’, situated outside of the city on a hill over-looking the whole of Rome and beyond, by now I don’t really care about the view, just the combination of a decent bed and a pillow would be nice.

A rather decadent, super king-size bed awaits us, it looks all plumped-up and expectant and we have five, yes five, pillows each. The bed is the most comfortable yet and the white linen sheets are superbly tailored and cool to the touch. I decide to try the pillows one-by-one, expecting to be spoilt for choice. “Too soft,” one goes on the floor, “Too soft,” number 2 goes on the floor, “Too soft, oh this is ridiculous”. They are all on the floor. Helpful husband spots a ‘pillow menu,’ “There’s a choice of ten”, he tells me, and hopefully, says. “There has got to be something here”.

I call the housekeeper, and ask for something I can honestly say I haven’t asked for anywhere else, the ‘Buckwheat husk pillow’. Listed as, ‘ideal for neck pain, used in ancient Egypt and by the Chinese for relaxation’. It certainly didn’t relax me, it had all the comfort of a brick, in-fact it was heavy enough to be one. “Sorry”, I say to Senora housekeeper on the phone, “Can I have ‘pure-wool Merinos’ instead?” Described on the menu, simply, as ‘medium filling’. I could have plumped for ‘Herbal,’ pleasantly described as, ‘A mix of vegetable fibres releasing a light fragrance of freshly cut grass’, which would have been interesting to say the least, but I thought simplicity would, hopefully, be best.

I opened the door for the second time and there, stood holding ‘pure-wool Merinos,’ was a Zulu warrior in Hilton uniform. He must have been seven foot tall, with the all the proportions of a garden rake, and if the corridor hadn’t had sufficient lighting I wouldn’t have seen him. “This should be fine”, I said quickly. I must have had a 'blimey' look on my face, but he didn’t say anything, he just smiled a gleaming-white ‘colgate’ smile, manoeuvred his rather large feet into position and walked-off into the distance.

He was probably sent as a last-chance warning, I didn’t want Senor Zulu back on my door-step – do hotel rooms have door-steps? - so I decided to stick with my woolly pillow even though it wasn’t perfect.

Husband and I wouldn’t put the ‘Cavaliere’ in the ‘Top 10 Hotels’ bracket, the food was average for the price, the service was hit-and-miss, and the club lounge was grubby. However, we both had spa treatments and they were the best we have ever had, the view of Rome is stunning and at least there are ten choices of pillow.

By web author.