Maybe it’s because my bathroom at home is the size of a cereal box and has just as many windows. At least the part with the bathtub. The sink area is quite nice, after a recent way overdue makeover, and has two sinks, which is highly recommended by marriage counselors everywhere as second only to regular girls’ nights out for keeping a marriage happy. Okay, I made that part up, but it is a plus for a marriage to not spit toothpaste into the same sink.
Anyway, that may be why I always notice the view, if any, from restrooms in hotels and restaurants.
I am at the celebrity-level luxurious Iberostar Grand Bavaro in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, the fourth and by far most upscale resort in this country for Iberostar. My gorgeous suite, done is peaceful shades of beige and blue grey, has a wood-floored balcony facing the Caribbean.
But it’s the bathroom that is truly breathtaking – the Jacuzzi tub has a view of the ocean, the meandering pool surrounded by tented lounging beds and wicker chaises and the huge ship that houses a bar and is a signature of this adults-only resort. I can shower, floss my teeth, go through my 87-second makeup routine and even tinkle, all with a view of the ocean.
Last night I lowered the see-through shades on the two exposed sides of the tub, filled it with hot water and sprinkled it with Forest Essentials Sea Salt. Ready for the ultimate relaxation, I pressed the button for the invigorating yet soothing bubbles, and was instantly rewarded with projectile blasts of water in the face. Now my hair was soaked, so the bath was over as I scrambled to dry my hair before dinner. But at least I could dry it with a view of the twinkling lights of the ship and the blue haze of the pool.
Other views that have come close to rivaling this one including our beachfront room at Peter Island, again with a tub that afforded a view of the beach just a few steps away. One of my more memorable visits to the restroom was in Las Vegas, to the ladies’ room at Mix, where you can take care of business on a black toilet while looking down 43 stories to The Strip below. Seems you don’t have to miss a minute of the action, even when nature calls.
But then there is the bathroom in the downstairs of our 1918 house. For reasons unknown, there are two windows here. One is in the bathtub area, from which you could watch the neighbors walk their dogs while you shower, hardly a selling point to most people. The other is in the bathroom door itself, one of those milky glazed type windows. But despite the distortions you can still see through it, so we have to come up with clever ways to cover it. Right now it’s covered with a linen monogrammed napkin that I stuck up there in a moment of desperation before a dinner party.
Until we move or work up the courage for a renovation, I’ll just enjoy the views when I travel. Besides, less light means less focus on gathering mildew. And that could just be a good selling point.