Some thoughts about nomads…

My friend Dacey and I have been making New York holiday plans via email from our various corners of the globe and we thought, daaaaaaamn, we’re like “grown ups” now. Maybe we won’t have to stay on a mattress on someone’s floor. Maybe we won’t have to take the place on Airbnb with a shower in the middle of the kitchen. This could be different.

Maybe… we thought, because we’re adults, we’ll actually treat ourselves and toast our new career-women statuses in the world by staying somewhere AWESOME. Imagine. Somewhere awesome in Man-fricking-hattan. A nice place to stay always makes a trip even better. We could even walk to the shops instead of running through Harlem with our hands over our faces.

So we emailed some places, including a very nice looking hotel called the NoMad Hotel. I like this name. Although, as a nomad myself I find it quite misleading. Surely “nomads”, which perhaps is who they’re trying to attract, can’t dig into their pockets and pull out the US $365 + tax per night it costs to stay there? Unless nomads have changed since I moved to Bali?

I read it again. Perhaps they meant $3.65, which is more like it. I just about have $3.65 in my purse at any given moment (in rupiah). Actually, now I have less because I just paid $4 for a haircut (I know, I splashed out). But no. No. They mean $365 + tax per night. $365. That is one and a half times my monthly rent in Bali. ONE AND A HALF TIMES MY MONTHLY RENT IN BALI. FOR ONE NIGHT.

I mean, I know it’s a great hotel. It’s brand new and the “design of the hotel was inspired by the Parisian flat of Garcia’s youth” for fuck’s sake. It’s amazing. But I do think the word NoMad should perhaps be saved for more fitting establishments. Like the Airbnb apartment with a shower in the middle of the kitchen.

I think I’m going to have a bit of a shock in the western world.