When I lived in London I found myself, very often, sleeping in the beds of strangers. This was an unusual situation for me. I am a difficult and restless sleeper. I talk in my sleep. I twitch and move. I have vivid dreams that sometimes bleed over into waking reality. And, given all this, it is my general preference to sleep alone.
In London this isn’t always an option, particularly when – enervated by the energy of a new and exciting city – you indulge in a great many hookups, onenightstands and brief but intense love affairs with people you barely know.
The scale of London means that getting home at 03:00 in the morning isn’t always an option… or, at least, it wasn’t when I lived there. Uber wasn’t yet a thing. On a Saturday night the wait for a cab would be measurable in hours. The Night Tube didn’t yet exist, and the network of night buses would take theentirenight to get me anywhere even close to where I wanted to be.
So, for the time that I lived in London at least, I learned to sleep alongside strangers. And it was odd and wonderful. The little intimacies of it fascinated me. To see someone’s bedtime routine. To let them see mine. To borrow a toothbrush. To lie beside them as they slept. To hear them snoring, or feel them twitching, or hear them murmuring in their sleep.
And, in the morning, to see them in a new light: without makeup, hungover and quiet. To share breakfast with them before heading off into our respective days. To laugh, gently, about the foolish and passionate activities of the night before.
Many of these people I never saw again. Some I did. But what is interesting to me is that London – the scale and the difficulty of it – had a bearing on our connection. It forced a certain intimacy. It required a certain defencelessness. My place of comfort was to sleep alone… but London didn’t always allow that. It forced me learn the patience and politeness and consideration and care that is required to sleep alongside a stranger. And though it was difficult at the time, I think that can only be a good thing.
