A Room Without a View

I'm not your typical travel blogger. Travel bloggers, in my experience, fall into two distinct categories - Luxuristas and Hostel Surfers. Luxuristas seek out high-end places, eat extravagantly, order bottles of wine that exceed the cost of my car payment. Think Michelin Stars, Conde Nast Traveler, spa treatments and you've got 'em pegged. They take a lot of pictures of food and write about the difficulty of obtaining a good Prosecco in while sailing around Corsica. Hostel Surfers are young, wealthy enough to not need jobs to pay back student loans but not pretentious enough (yet) to be a Luxurista (yet). Imagine a Patagonia or North Face backpack, ripped jeans (or cargo shorts depending upon location and season), a scraggly beard (on the dudes), and braided hair (on the gals). Got the picture? They take selfies with locals and write about the social implications of discarded plastic water bottles in developing countries.

I am (C) none of the above. I'm middle aged and too poor to really be able to afford to travel. This means that I'm too old to stay with a bunch of rowdy twenty-somethings in a youth hostel (Truthfully, I've always been too old and introverted to endure that), but broke enough that I need to. Thankfully, I'm not a foodie or a drinkie nor am I much enamored of the high-life. I grew up on Travel Lodge (I thought the little bar soaps were the bomb-diggity and I kept a bunch in my dresser drawers pretty much through college) and McDonald's (ok, ok, it's still my go-to at home as well as abroad), so fancy-schmancy isn't welcome or required. If it was, I'd be at home in Austin instead of sitting at a Starbucks on Gotgatan in Stockholm.

I came to Stockholm for the first time last Spring on what those around  me alternately called "my trip of a lifetime" (meaning one-and-done) or "my mid-life crisis" (meaning like the guy who gets buyers remorse after picking up the keys to his new Ferrari, I'd get homesick and return after two weeks with my tail between my legs content to never leave the U.S.again). Projection and wishful thinking, all of it. My suitcase hadn't been unpacked a month when I booked my next trip - nine days in Stockholm in October.

How can I afford such extravagances? I mean, TWO trips to Europe in ONE year?!?! Those who know me know that I've worked for the World's Largest Home Improvement Retailer for more than a decade and people who know the World's Largest Home Improvement Retailer know they don't pay a whole helluva lot. Back in college, my tennis teammates' parents used to ask my parents how I played tennis, worked, and still managed keep a B+ average (apparently their kids weren't doing the same).. The answer? Sacrifice. In college, I gave up my social life. I played tennis, worked, and did school. Period. How to I afford to go to Europe twice in one year? The same. Sacrifice. How so?

Arguably, I got in early at the WLHIR before wages really tanked in the early 20-teens. That said, I'm far luckier than most of my co-workers when it comes to pay and bonuses. However, I still have rent (in Austin, Texas), utilities, a car payment, and student loans. All the adult usuals, the basics, but that's where my monthly expenses stop. Because travel is my priority, I sacrifice the rest. Such as -

• I have a second job. I dog sit. A lot. 
• I have zero credit card debt.
• I cut WAY back on the amount of money I spend eating out.
• I play tennis on city park courts where there aren't court fees.
• I switched my "office" from Lola Savannah Coffee Lounge where I have to pay for coffee to the public library where coffee costs a nominal donation.

AND...

• I'm cool with window-less hotel rooms. 

Americans probably aren't as familiar (I think it's illegal or violates a zillion fire codes in the US) as Europeans with the window-less hotel room. For the uninitiated, it's a hotel room with no window. For real. My room has a twin bed, a super small desk, a bathroom that's not much bigger than the desk, and a TV from the late '90s. That's it. Period.

Cringe, right? Wrong. Ok, when I first walked in the door, I was taken aback a bit. The room is tiny and narrow, there is barely enough room for anything. I had to move the wastepaper basket to underneath the desk (which the cleaning crew keeps putting back) to create space for my suitcase. I looked behind the curtain where the window should be (if there was one, I mean) and was greeted by a wall. I immediately became a tad claustrophobic. I stood back with hands on hips and wondered about the necessity of the curtain. There's no window so a curtain, really? Really. The illusion that there's a window there goes a long way. Think about it this way - Once you're in the room, you shut the curtain anyway. Regardless of floor, you don't want anyone peeking in. You're left with... a window-less hotel room.

There are benefits. Seriously. Other than the cost, I mean.

• You can't forget to shut the curtain and walk out the bathroom naked.
• It can be any time of day you want it to be. Two in the morning and two in the afternoon look exactly the same. This is especially nice if you want to go to bed before the sun goes down or if you want to sleep past the sunrise. 

What about negatives?

• It can be anytime of day you want it to be. Try getting out of bed every morning in a pitch black room. It might be morning. Or it might be the middle of the night. Trust me. It always feels a lot like the middle of the night. 
• You can't tell the weather just by looking out the window. Is it sunny? Cloudy? Rainy? Gotta check a weather app for all that. 

But seriously, I didn't come to Stockholm to look out a window anyway. I came here to enjoy the city, be in the city, not chill in my hotel room. If anything the window-less room has pushed me out into the city more. Like right now, if I had a window, I might be tempted to write in my room rather than in a busy coffee place on an equally busy street in Sodermalm. Here I can drink more than instant coffee and see, hear, and feel Stockholm around me. If that means I have to pry myself out of bed in the dark every morning and check the Weather Channel for wardrobe decisions, I gladly will. When I walk out the door, I'm in Stockholm. Stockholm!

Thanks to Expedia.com and a "bundle deal", I was able to book a plane ticket and nine days in a hotel (albeit a window-less room) for cheap. How cheap? Cheaper than most airfare websites were offering airfare alone. Really. I guess the question you - middle aged, broke traveler - need to ask it this - Have I dreamed of going to Europe to look out a window? If the answer is "no" (which it damn well should be), consider going window-less. You'll get there and that's ultimately what matters. 

All things being equal, I'd choose a room with a window and a view. I've been lucky in that regard several times. But this trip... I'm just happy to be here. Window-less is fine because this is Stockholm and everywhere besides my hotel room has an absolutely perfect view.