There is an army of at least twenty individuals on the roof of my childhood Florida home. When I say an army, I couldn't be using the term less lightly. The sounds coming from above my head, are literally the sounds of a war. These men VS my South Florida roof. Thankfully, being somewhat of an early bird, I was able to anticipate the thunderous noise of these twenty relentless construction workers, as they battle the hurricane damages of a decade. Yet, all around me, every artifact my parents have ever picked up on one of their travels is holding on for dear life.
I, on the other hand, am holding on for dear sanity. In the past ten minutes, my idealized view on roofs has shattered as violently as the very tiles these men are destroying. At the moment, that silly, romantic childhood fantasy of sitting up on that terracotta slant, with a first love, passing a sneaky cigarette back and forth while staring longingly at Gemini's constellation, has been crushed to pieces.
All I can think is this: If only I didn't have a roof. At this very moment, my ears would ring peacefully with the sound of the Atlantic, and this abundant Florida sunshine would turn the marble floors into art.
A roof. Who needs a roof? Or even walls, for that matter.
It's not as wacky, or childish a thought as you may think, either. Funnily enough, Conde Nast Traveler's August 2010 spread was a direct extension of these fresh thoughts of mine. The spread, entitled Sleeping With the... Stars, documents the notion which has swept elite tourism around the globe: that roofs, in certain optimal places, are an unfortunate barricade to the beauty all around us.
These very pricey but star-lit dwellings have done away with both of my current archenemies. The "hotel rooms" prove that in some cases, less really can be more, and with their lack of a a roof or walls, recreate an intimate bond between the luxury traveler and stunning nature.
I have highlighted my favorite four, in the hopes that though there may not be the sounds of an apocalypse as a side to your eggs and toast this morning; maybe you too, will see the absolute excellence in sometimes raising the roof.
I, on the other hand, am holding on for dear sanity. In the past ten minutes, my idealized view on roofs has shattered as violently as the very tiles these men are destroying. At the moment, that silly, romantic childhood fantasy of sitting up on that terracotta slant, with a first love, passing a sneaky cigarette back and forth while staring longingly at Gemini's constellation, has been crushed to pieces.
All I can think is this: If only I didn't have a roof. At this very moment, my ears would ring peacefully with the sound of the Atlantic, and this abundant Florida sunshine would turn the marble floors into art.
A roof. Who needs a roof? Or even walls, for that matter.
It's not as wacky, or childish a thought as you may think, either. Funnily enough, Conde Nast Traveler's August 2010 spread was a direct extension of these fresh thoughts of mine. The spread, entitled Sleeping With the... Stars, documents the notion which has swept elite tourism around the globe: that roofs, in certain optimal places, are an unfortunate barricade to the beauty all around us.
These very pricey but star-lit dwellings have done away with both of my current archenemies. The "hotel rooms" prove that in some cases, less really can be more, and with their lack of a a roof or walls, recreate an intimate bond between the luxury traveler and stunning nature.
I have highlighted my favorite four, in the hopes that though there may not be the sounds of an apocalypse as a side to your eggs and toast this morning; maybe you too, will see the absolute excellence in sometimes raising the roof.
1. Lion Sands Private Game Reserve, Sabi Sand Game Reserve, South Africa
2. Blue Mountains Private Safaris, Blue Mountains National Park, Australia
3. Loisaba Wilderness Lodge, Nanyuki, Kenya
2. Blue Mountains Private Safaris, Blue Mountains National Park, Australia
3. Loisaba Wilderness Lodge, Nanyuki, Kenya
OLB
