This Month’s Features:

The Sleep Club interviews Anya Orlanska: Sleep Concierge at The Benjamin, New York

Thu, 10 Mar 2011 18:59:24 +0000

Inspired by National Sleep Awareness Week in America, The Sleep Club decided to have a chat with Anya Orlanska - a woman who’s paid to be as sleep aware as possible.

Offering a good night’s sleep is top on most hotels’ priority lists (or so you’d hope). But at The Benjamin in Midtown Manhattan, they’ve gone a step further to offer a sleep experience that you can really get excited about. Firstly, they offer a Sleep Guarantee, whereby they promise guests a good night’s sleep or you get your money back. To ensure they live up to this, not only do they have beds specifically designed for their hotel, they have a pillow menu and most importantly, a Sleep Concierge to guide you through the sleep options. Plus, in true New York style, it’s not only the guests that get treated to a great night’s sleep, there’s also a bed menu for dogs too - orthopedic dog bed anyone?!

Of course, at the Sleep Club we were fascinated by the idea of a Sleep Concierge. Here’s what Anya had to say about her job and her own love of sleep.

First off, do you sleep well, yourself?

I do, after all I am a Sleep Concierge.

What is your own nightly routine - if you don't mind us asking?

I prefer a slightly colder temperature when I am easing into sleep, as well as a darker lit atmosphere. Sometimes a mug of hot tea (either chamomile or green) is also a favorite step of mine at night to calm away the stresses of the day and clear my head.

What do you think is the most important factor to ensure a good night's sleep?

I believe the most important factor is finding a way to block out all the thoughts and challenges I have been presented with that day, so that I have a clear head and can drift off thoughtlessly. At the Benjamin, we help our guests do this with a Sleep Inducing Massage from our Wellness Spa or by helping them choose the perfect pillow for their customized needs.

What is your No.1 sleep tip?

Relax for a while before going to bed. Spending quiet time can make falling asleep easier. This may include meditation, breathing exercises or taking a warm bath.

How do you help people whilst they stay at the Benjamin?

Not only do I receive weekly updates and emails from the National Sleep Foundation on new developments in successful sleep tips and information/statistics on what works and what doesn't work in terms of having a restful night’s sleep, but I also do lots of research on my own including going to seminars on sleep productivity. I will say that the best research I have found is in talking to our guests and ascertaining their specific needs, as well as learning from their feedback the next day.

(Anya also assists guests make a pillow selection from The Benjamin’s 12-pillow menu and offers other sleep amenities such as white noise machines, extra blankets and lavender essential oil from the spa.)

How many guests come to you for guidance?

At least 5 a day for sure, but weekends I will encounter more families that I can talk to at length about their sleep rituals and pillow preferences.

Have you had any unusual requests from guests with specific sleep habits?

Many guests prefer a harder mattress so we will work with housekeeping to send up bed boards to put beneath the mattress so that they can have a more firm foundation for their rest.

Finally, where would you most like to fall asleep?

Aside from my own bed or perhaps a Benjamin Bed, I would love to fall asleep on the beach laying out in the sun.

.....
Oh and in case you were wondering - this is what a Pillow Menu looks like. Can we go to New York now, please?
.....
The Benjamin Pillow Menu

Magnetic Therapy
Reduces swelling and discomfort, relieves insomnia and fatigue, soothes tense muscles and aching joints, and improves skin tone by stimulating circulation.

Upper Body
Candy cane-shaped pillow for head and upper back support.

Buckwheat
Buckwheat hulls conform to the head and neck for maximum support and stress reduction.

Cloud
Designed to cradle and support the natural contours of your head, neck, shoulders and back.

Satin Beauty
Soft foam designed to reduce pressure on facial bones. Silky satin cover helps maintain hairdos overnight.

Hypo-Allergenic
Relieves sneezing, morning headaches, sinus congestion and other symptoms associated with allergies to feathers, fibers and dust.

Snore-No-More
Reduces snoring to promote a deeper more restful sleep by elevating the chin from the chest, keeping the airway open.

Five Foot Body Cushion
Aligns the spine for better sleeping posture white reducing neck, back and joint pain. Perfect for pregnancy or recovering from surgery.

Water-Filled
Positions head and neck naturally for instant relief from headaches and neck pain. Vinyl cushion fills with warm or cold water, adjusting firmness and support.

Swedish Memory
Space-age foam designed by NASA for unique self-moulding characteristics. Reacts to body temperature keeping sleepers cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

Lullaby
Deeply buried in the hypoallergenic fiberfill, the ultra-thin speakers create an intimate and smoothing sound experience. Simply plug into your MP3 player, CD player or radio.

Pregnancy
A dense foam wedge offers expectant mothers added support to help ensure a comfortable night's sleep.

Confessions of a Sleep Deprived Dad by Stephen Maughan

Mon, 25 Oct 2010 16:51:28 +0100

As much as I enjoy sleep, it's something I naively took for granted for most of my life.

It was part of normal life: not so much a chore, but a necessity, like eating. Like a baby, my attitude was that if I was hungry I would eat, and if I was tired I would sleep.

As an 11 year old boy it was, naturally, a hassle when my Luke Skywalker alarm clock woke me up with the command: “Get up – the force is with you.” I didn't care so much that my dreams of Star Wars-style adventures were over, but more that I had to face double maths at school. A major bore. But, I was so full of energy as a boy that I was often excited at the thought of waking up to a new day full of promise. My time at university we can skip, as I spent most of it in a pleasant daydream, and probably never slept more in my life. The joy of sleeping through to the late afternoon edition of Neighbours is something only a student can appreciate. After graduation I took a job, which by sheer chance, started at 11am. So even then, if I was feeling particularly lazy I always had the option to hit the snooze button a few times.

This blissful ignorance of how lucky I’d had it all changed with the arrival of children. First, Zeke who was born 4 years ago, after my wife went through a rather dramatic 20 hour birth (with, obviously, no sleep for either of us). And now recently again with the arrival of little baby Jakob. From the moment kids are born, the new parent soon learns that everything revolves around sleep. In fact, the whole focus of life is about sleep – either for the baby, or for you.

For the first time in your life you wake up throughout the night; to the urgent sounds of a baby crying and shrieking, and you must move your flagging legs to the baby's cot. It's part of life for the majority of new parents (let's ignore those chirpy parents who say 'oh little Johnny always sleeps from seven to seven'). Certainly, nobody gave me any sympathy about my sleepless nights. In fact people seemed to enjoy the fact I was getting so little sleep. “Ha ha ha”, I recall my father saying after I had complained of one particular bad night's sleep when Zeke had colic, “That's going to be your life now. That's how it was for your mother and me too, ha ha ha”. Yes, have a good laugh dad. Your job as a parent means the baby always comes first.

One 3am stint, I made up my own sleep song, having always fancied myself as a rock star. Edging towards the 30 mark it’s becoming increasingly unlikely, but still my son seemed to appreciate my talents as I sang “go to sleep, little bear, daddy is so very tir-ed, my eyes hurt, my brain is dead, so please, oh please go to sleep”. Amazingly it worked, and I jumped with excitement back into bed. It was quiet – the baby was asleep – I could sleep, oh thank you God! But then...a couple hours later (but feeling like mere minutes) it would start all over again – Waaaah! Waaaah!

Around 5am I would usually give up. Of course it’s a ridiculous hour to get up, but I figured a half dozen coffee's would do the trick. I would listen to classical music on the radio; the soft mellow sounds tempting me back to my soft warm bed. But no, that was impossible with an 8 month old baby loose in the kitchen, and the irresistible lure of the pots and pans cupboard! I would watch him laugh and crawl around the room, full of energy. At least for a few hours until he started crying with “over-tiredness” (I knew this feeling very well). And again you rock him and sing sleep songs, and then...that moment comes...the baby is asleep. At this point I'm so tired my eyes feel like concrete slabs, and although I should be writing an article about George Orwell, the prospect of sleep overrules everything. I draw the curtains and stumble into bed – where a feeling of such delight and triumph overcomes me. Within seconds I'm fast asleep. Thirty minutes later it's all over. The baby is awake and wants a bottle of hot milk. I have little choice but to join him. Hot milk is a wonderful thing.

Of course, all babies turn into little children, but here once again I find my life strangely dominated by sleep. Zeke had terrible problems getting to sleep. As a toddler he would quite simply refuse to sleep, and we spent countless hours each evening trying different techniques to get him to sleep. He has now just started primary school, so is exhausted by the time we pick him up at lunchtime. After school he doesn't want to do much but laze about on the sofa. By 5pm he is telling us he actually wants to go to sleep – something he has never said before. He staggers around in his PJs, before collapsing in bed where, within minutes, he's asleep, as I'm reading aloud his Winnie the Pooh book. I don't see him again until the middle of the night, when he comes running into our bed. He then tends to toss and turn all night long keeping us awake. When he does finally fall asleep the new baby starts crying.

Sleep these days feels like a fruit machine. Every night you’re hoping you get the jackpot of eight hours sleep, but you know the odds are stacked against you.

As a parent, your children are everything to you, and become the single most important thing in your life. Saying that, there are two moments in a day every parent looks forward to early evening when the kids are fast asleep. You go in to tuck them in, and see their sweet little angel faces peacefully sleeping, and you celebrate by pouring yourself a glass of wine. The second, around 10pm where, hot cocoa in hand, you climb into bed to either read a good book, or listen to a decent play on the radio to while away half an hour before the great reward of the day – the chance to finally get some much needed sleep. For who knows when the chance will come again? Waaaah.

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep?

Mon, 25 Oct 2010 15:42:39 +0100

The Final Verdict: which tea came out on top?

So after all this tea drinking and sleeping, Yogi Bedtime Tea turned out to be the most popular sleep tea. Rating highest for flavour and relaxation, our tasters genuinely felt that Yogi Bedtime Tea not only tasted great, but seemed to contribute to a better night’s sleep. Quite an achievement, as they were all initially dubious about how effective a cup of sleep tea could be. Our tasters placed the Yogi tea as either their favourite or second favourite sleep-tea in all categories, making it the clear winner overall.

To celebrate the results, we have 5 boxes of Yogi Bedtime Tea to give away to our readers. Just answer the simple question below, for a chance to win:

A. Which American National Park was the home to legendary cartoon character Yogi Bear? (Email your answers to info@thesleepclub.co.uk)

In 2nd place, Solaris Botanicals’ Isis (Relax Tea) rated very highly for taste, as all of the panel enjoyed the very natural flavours and colourful appearance of this loose leaf tea.

Twinings - a moment of calm - scored highly for relaxation, but seemed to divide people when it came to taste. For some it was too sweet and for others it was absolutely delicious.

Flavour was the deciding - or dividing - factor for our other two teas. Licorice fans loved the Pukka Night Time tea, but those who didn’t couldn’t stand it! Equally, Clipper tea’s light fruity flavour worked for some of the panel, but scored poorly for others. Just goes to show there’s no accounting for taste!

Generally, it seemed that there are simply too many external factors affecting a good night’s sleep for a cup of tea to be the solution. If you’re a chronic insomniac, a cup of tea is unlikely to hold the key. However, for all the sleep tasters, the routine of preparing and settling down to drink a bedtime tea - plus the soothing flavours - all seemed to focus their minds on sleep, even if the teas couldn’t guarantee results every night. All of them have resolved to trade their old remedies for new favourites!

(Thanks to all the companies who kindly donated samples of their teas to the Sleep Club in order to make it possible for us to carry out this trial!)

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep? Part 5: Pukka - Night Time

Sun, 3 Oct 2010 20:09:01 +0100

What flavours can you taste?
Camomile, berries & a hint of lime / Lavender with an aftertaste of licorice - which if you’re a fan (and I am) works really well / Licorice, oats and dirty tea cup! / Camomile, maybe some Valerian, with a cooling aftertaste

Do you like the flavour?
It’s OK /Delicious, the licorice aftertaste lingers and really relaxes the palette / No - it tastes like it shouldn’t be consumed / It’s an acquired taste, but I like it

How would you rate the tea for taste?
2 / 3.5 / 1 /3

Did drinking the tea affect your sleep?
No, didn’t relax me at all. No affect / It definitely relaxed me and I fell asleep fairly quickly / No - my sleep graph was quite erratic the night I drank this / This one made me feel relaxed and got me yawning!

How would you rate the tea for relaxation?
1 / 3 / 1 /3.5

Would you consider changing your routine to drink this tea to aid sleep?
No / Yes/ No / Maybe

Any other comments?
The name is not appealing / It should come with a licorice warning! / The tea has a similar appearance to green tea, but it smells like the sort of medicine you remember hating as a child!/ This has a strong smell before brewing, but doesn’t have a particularly strong flavour / Makes your tongue tingle / I love the Pukka packaging

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep? Part 4: Clipper Tea - Organic Sleep Easy Infusion

Sun, 3 Oct 2010 20:08:50 +0100

What flavours can you taste?
Fruity/ Not a huge amount of flavour initially - a citrussy/orangey aftertaste, but overall fairly bland / This reminds me of green tea. I really disliked green tea the first time, but it’s a real grower / Fruity, orangey with maybe a hint of nutmeg & camomile

Do you like the flavour?
Yes /Not particularly / I could learn to like it! / Yes - this has a proper flavour and the smell isn’t overpowering

How would you rate the tea for taste?
3 / 2.5 / 3 /4

Did drinking the tea affect your sleep?
The 1st night I did, but the 2nd night I was wired and couldn’t sleep for ages. Not convinced / Tossed and turned all night and found it hard to get up! / I seemed to sleep quite deeply when I drank this, or so my sleep scan suggests / It made me a bit wired initially, but then knocked me out and I struggled to get up the next morning!

How would you rate the tea for relaxation?
2.5 / 2 / 3 /2

Would you consider changing your routine to drink this tea to aid sleep?
No / No / No, I’ve started green tea I don’t think I can adapt to another slightly dodgy tasting tea! / Yes - if I want something to knock me out!

Any other comments?
It’s not the prettiest or aromatic of teas! / This reminded me of a nice cough syrup - very soft and smooth with no bitterness. It also has a nice colour

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep? Part 3: Yogi - Bedtime Tea

Sun, 3 Oct 2010 20:08:25 +0100

What flavours can you taste?
Camomile & berry maybe / Sweet, spicy & herby. Very mellow taste - like being transported to an oriental market in Zanzibar! / A light herbal taste, not too overpowering, quite tasty / It’s quite spicy in a light way, with camomile & lavender maybe!

Do you like the flavour?
Yes / Very much - Mmmm! / Yes it was subtle, so as someone who doesn’t normally drink herbal teas, I liked it / Yes it’s quite warming - it was a bit bland the first time I brewed it, but better given a longer brew

How would you rate the tea for taste?
4 /4 / 4 / 3.5

Did drinking the tea affect your sleep?
Great sleep every time I drink it. Will be purchasing this for sure & have already recommended it! / It was a gentle slide into sleep after Yogi and though I woke up I fell back to sleep easily / I felt quite relaxed after it, but didn’t sleep any better than normal / Definitely calmed by it

How would you rate the tea for relaxation?
5 / 4 / 4 /4

Would you consider changing your routine to drink this tea to aid sleep?
I might drink it to de-stress rather than as a sleep aid / Maybe

Any other comments?
I like the name! / Delicious smell / The packaging was nice and the name, the description as ayurvedic - plus the fact that it says good night on each packet - all come together to give a lovely zen feeling! / This has quite a strong smell in the box, but it’s not overpowering when you drink it

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep? Part 2: Solaris Botanicals - Isis (Relax Tea)

Mon, 27 Sep 2010 21:59:02 +0100

What flavours can you taste?
Camomile & a faint hint of rose / Imagine drinking really nice rose-smelling pot pourri! Tastes really natural & old school. Having leaves adds to the ceremony of it / It tastes like a very mild, normal tea / Camomile & Fruity

Do you like the flavour?
Yes - didn’t need honey at all (as suggested). Very mild and soothing / Yes, delicious and full of flavours / Yes it’s very subtle / Yes it’s subtle, light, very natural and refreshing

How would you rate the tea for taste?
4 / 4 /4 / 4

Did drinking the tea affect your sleep?
I did feel very relaxed & did sleep deeply. Not sure if it this was the tea or my frame of mind /Had a restless night - not sure if it was the tea or the wild weekend! / No, it took me a while to fall asleep, but that might have been down to external factors / Slept well and fell asleep quickly

How would you rate the tea for relaxation?
3.5 /3.5 / 3 /4

Would you consider changing your routine to drink this tea to aid sleep?
I would happily drink this instead of my usual camomile tea bag / Yeah, but it is a lot of effort having to infuse without a teabag / I’d drink this as an occasional night time beverage, rather than a routine one / Yes

Any other comments?
The box is lovely! / I found that some of the leaves ended up in the tea, but that could have been my rubbish tea strainer! / I liked the ritual, it looks beautiful and it’s nice to know it’s a 100% natural

Can a cup of tea really help you sleep? Part 1: Twinings - a moment of calm - Camomile, Honey & Vanilla

Sun, 22 Aug 2010 20:29:28 +0100

What flavours can you taste?
Not sure / Smells nice, sort of vanilla-ish. Tastes bitter with an aftertaste of vanilla / This is deliciously sweet and the scent of roses seems to make it taste even nicer! / Camomile, honey with a vanilla aftertaste

Do you like the flavour?
No not really /No - not great / Definitely / Yes - although it’s better brewed for longer

How would you rate the tea for taste?
2 / 2 / 5 / 3.5

Did drinking the tea affect your sleep?
No didn’t seem to have any effect. Sleep was a long time coming & not deep / If you can get over the bitter tasting experience, then sleep has been well earnt! / It took me longer to fall asleep, then I woke up to go to the bathroom (I’m not used to drinking this much before bed!) I fell into a lovely deep sleep after that though / I felt relaxed drinking the tea and fell asleep pretty quickly

How would you rate the tea for relaxation?
1 / 3 / 4 /4

Would you consider changing your routine to drink this tea to aid sleep?
No / no / Yes, but an hour before bed rather than 5 mins before! / Definitely try it a few more times

Any other comments?
The name is a bit corny / Smelled and looked like rose water - very girly! / The smell was a bit strong

Confessions of a Sleep Addict

Tue, 11 May 2010 21:33:25 +0100

People are addicts. Even those who turn down everything you offer because of their self-diagnosed ‘addictive personalities’. ‘I’d love to have a drink/ coffee/ smoke, but I can’t,’ they insist, ‘if I had one I’d never stop!’ Don’t be fooled, their 'dependence' is on ruining perfectly promising dinner parties. Most of us are more game however and grab whatever’s on offer only to turn round one day and discover - in true 39 Steps style - that we’re handcuffed to a habit. Then we’re obliged to take another 12 Steps in an attempt to unshackle ourselves.

Our addiction options – in the 21st Century fashion - are of course endless: drugs of all degrees, drinks of all flavours, even homeopathy and healthy eating can become an unhealthy obsession. I won’t pretend that I haven’t dabbled in them all – except exercise - and I only ever refused a drink once. I’d misheard the question. But I can safely say that I’m not addicted to anything obvious. My personal fix, my crutch, my panacea - is sleep. Where some people are heavy drinkers, I’m a heavy sleeper. And I love it. If narcolepsy were contagious I'd dry hump a dyssomniac.

When people ask me what I do for a living, invariably I shuffle my feet and admit 'I do like to take a lot of sleep.' I ‘take’ sleep like other people take vitamins, in big handfuls. Twelve hours a night (or day) is good, but thirteen plus is better. My unrivalled personal-best in terms of staying-power was on New Year's Day this year, when I slept for thirty-three hours. Admittedly I did wake up twice during that period for a pee and a yoghurt, but hey, I think even a sleep purist wouldn’t penalize me for that.

I'm not lazy though, not at all. I'm actually a busy sleeper. I laugh, and chat and do lots of activities in my sleep. When I've dabbled in day jobs I've even been known to work on into my nights. In my twenties I was a world-weary shop assistant in Calvin Klein, spending my days re-tidying clothes rails and rearranging jumpers and my long-term girlfriend would be regularly woken up by me folding her up ready to go back on a shelf.

Then, when I took a job in an office, she’d watch me diligently using our horizontal bedroom blinds as a filing cabinet. It didn't stop here. When we moved in together – she was a glutton for a somnambulist’s punishment - I spent two days taking boxes of books up the stairs. That night I awoke to the sound of the front door clicking closed behind me and I found myself naked in the communal hallway. Clearly I was off to collect another box, which I was still obliged to do - an empty one from the pavement, which I wore to cover my modesty. I then banged on our door, praying that my new neighbours didn't respond before my girlfriend. And when eventually she did wake up, and let me in, with the true defensiveness of a sleepwalker I pretended that standing in a hall wearing a box was a perfectly normal activity for four o'clock on a Wednesday morning.

‘’What are you doing?’
‘Look, do you mind if I come in?’

Of course my sleep addiction has also got me into trouble of a different kind. I have issues with the term ‘oversleeping’ as it has negative connotations. But, as it’s accepted into common parlance, I’ve used the phrase ‘I’m sorry I overslept’ more times than I can remember. I missed so many lectures at university that I resorted to placing a bucket of water by my bed. The idea was that I use it to threaten myself with when my alarm went off. ‘Either get up, or dunk your head!’ Inevitably I did neither and dropped back off to sleep. Two girls in my halls of residence kindly volunteered to bang on my door every morning and wake me up, but my body betrayed me. ‘I’m, up I’m dressed. Set off I’ll catch you up!’ I’d hollar, whilst still fast asleep, until one day they got the cleaner to let them in and saw me shouting from under the covers.

I ran a bookshop for a while in Glasgow and often slept through opening up. One time I foolishly answered the phone, whilst still under the influence.

‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in the shop!’
‘I’m calling you at home!’
That’s a wake up call.

To combat this perpetual sleeping through appointments I bought a clock that simulated sunrise. I thought that it was a SAD lamp too and that maybe my oversleeping was a winter thing. It turned out not to be a SAD lamp and was really just a hugely expensive digital watch with a bulb attached. Predictably enough it failed to rouse me, so I still rely on several alarm clocks too far out of reach to hit the snooze button in my sleep.

The latest invention I’ve heard of that might help is an ‘app’ on the iPhone (Ed: read all about Sleep Cycle here.). Apparently it monitors your sleeping pattern and then wakes you when you are in the dreaming cycle, which is the lightest mode of sleep. I’m not convinced I even do light sleep, but it’s worth a try. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t see it as a problem as such, I happen to like my beauty sleep and I could give up when ever I wanted, man, I just have to stay awake long for long enough to try.

The Joy of Bed - A blog by bed-lover Mary Burnham

Thu, 15 Apr 2010 23:21:19 +0100

Getting out of bed in the morning is the most difficult thing I have to do every single day. After I’ve managed to pry open my eyelids and dampened down the negative thoughts (Why me? Nothing is worth this! I hate mornings!) I then slide my feet out and place them on the floor where I look at them, as if for inspiration, from my newly upright position while getting used to the feeling of being part of the universe once more.

I’m turning into my mother, of course, a woman who had two modes of being: out shopping or home in bed. When her grandson, Oisín, caught sight of her bounding up the stairs one afternoon he was flabbergasted; he had never before seen "Granny-up-in-bed" outside of her four-poster. Bed was where she directed operations, neat cupboards either side with drawers full of handy bits and bobs, remote controls (TV directly ahead, radio on the shelf to the left), telephone, knitting needles, wool, stamps, notepaper, books, pins, jewellery, comb, hairbrush, lipstick, face cream, curlers, nail scissors, holy water, statue of the Virgin Mary, rosary beads, hot water bottles, cards, pens, biros, pencils – the list can never be exhausted. There were many grim evenings when she dropped some vital piece of equipment – usually the remote control – and some poor schmuck would have to forage in the dusty underworld amid all the other lost things until they came up for air, with or without the misplaced object, to cries of, "Oh, you darling!" or, "Look, it was here all the time under my pillow!"

The temptation, when the evenings darken, is to dash upstairs, put on the electric blanket, and snuggle up with a good book. My biggest treat to myself is Egyptian cotton sheets (I have a neighbour who has a laundry service with crisp cotton sheets delivered weekly to her door – class!), four good pillows, a summer and winter duvet (mostly winter with the highest tog rating possible for the Irish chill) and all topped with the patchwork quilt that took me four long years to make. I have my mobile phone, my radio and TV, and piles of books but I promise you, I have not quite turned my bedroom into my office with everything I possess within reach from the depths of my cot!

Imagine my delight when I was given Warm and Snug: A History of the Bed by Lawrence Wright. I could read all about beds through the ages from a Neolithic stone bed unearthed at Skara Brae in the Orkney Islands to the bed from Tutankhamen's tomb c.1350BC; from stark Anglo-Saxon to ornate early Renaissance beds and the elaborate State bed chambers of kings. When you think about it, bed is where we spend nearly a third of our lives, (though with my mother I think it was rather more) so why not make it a place of comfort and refuge to which we can retreat whether it is morning, noon, or night?

This blog was first published on http://ramblings.ravenbooks.ie

Sleep Cycle: Is it as good as it sounds?

Sun, 11 Apr 2010 19:08:37 +0100

Do you sleep well generally - or do you have trouble sleeping? PH: I usually fall asleep quite easily during the week, but I toss and turn during the night so am usually quite tired when I get up in the morning.

MH: I mostly sleep very, very deeply - too deeply sometimes!
 What time do you usually go to bed and get up? PH: During the week I go to bed around midnight and get up between 7 and 7.30. The weekends vary a great deal. If I'm out on a Friday or Saturday I won't get to bed until 3 or 4, but I don't get up until midday or 1pm.

MH: I'm a late sleeper - rarely in bed before midnight and usually up around 7 during the week. Tend to lie on at the weekends though. Maybe ‘till 11 or 12 if the night before has been a late one!  What inspired you to buy the sleep cycle app?
PH: I'd heard quite a few reviews about the sleep cycle app and didn't really believe it could work, so I bought it to find out if it did! It was also on sale at 79 cent 'for a limited time', that was about 3 months ago and it's still only 79 cent!

MH: I was interested to see if I really was as deep a sleeper as I thought or if I was actually tossing and turning all night unbeknownst to myself! Also, the nerd in me wanted to understand how the iPhone accelerometer technology worked as a motion sensor   And how long have you been using it? PH: About 3 months ago.

MH: I bought it in a jet-lagged stupor the day I came back from a holiday in Boston - February 3rd 2010.  How did you hear about it?
PH: I heard about it from a friend of a friend in a pub. He swore by it, but I had my doubts...

MH: I saw it in the App store at first while keeping an eye on the top 25 applications. It was getting good ratings, but I didn't buy it until I read some more articles on it online and saw lengthy reviews from some of my Twitter buddies.
 Do you think it accurately tracks your sleep patterns? PH: I think it takes a few days to calibrate itself to your movement patterns. In fact the instructions say this, so you're not too surprised when your graph completely lacks pattern for the first few days. It definitely begins to make sense after a while though, and it's somewhat comforting when you wake up exhausted and look at your sleep graph only to find out you've been half awake for most of the night!

MH:I think it accurately tracks how much I move around in the night. Whether that's a true reflection of the stages of sleep is another matter! Apparently you can physically only move during certain phases of sleep so logic dictates, if you're moving, you're not in deep sleep. But I would question how it can know whether I'm dreaming or coming out of a dream or waking up etc...

Dreamy nights sleeping in a Dodge Caravan

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 21:08:09 +0100

Eight months ago, Sam and I caught a plane to New York, tore up our return ticket and lit out on a big adventure across the States. One of our best decisions was to buy a piece of real estate in the form of a van. To sleep in. Come rain or shine, our savings dictated we would be better off not crawling from one hostel or roadside motel to the next. That way we‘d be heading home in a shot. So, we became van campers, or as some people might consider us, rubber tramps.

I’d never slept in a car before, not that I could recall, anyway, and our little minivan - a people carrier to us Brits - didn’t really look anything like a well appointed camper van. It looked like a suburban “soccer mom” runaround, totally naff and Volvoish, only with a crudely fashioned bed made from a sheet of 6x4 and some foam padding in the back. Would we last the distance? Could we get our rest without the lingering aroma of oil and car upholstery, the noise of traffic or the glare of streetlights overhead interfering? Would we drive each other crazy in this exceedingly small space? Would our duvets and blankets from the thriftstore smell of old people? All these questions pervaded my dreams.

19,000 miles later, and I can confirm that sleeping in the back of a van is as exhilarating as it is comfortable and homely. It took a few adjustments, but I may go as far as to say that I enjoy it more than staying in an average hotel. This is a loyal, comfortable friend of a bed that never leaves your side. It travels wherever you do, and is there after a long day’s road trip. Just when you need it. If you’re in the mountains, the desert or the jungle, it’ll be the one place you can call home. No two nights’ sleep in this bed are ever the same. It’s the ultimate hotel room with a view.

We didn’t get off to the easiest of starts. It was October when we became the proud owners of our 1996 Dodge Caravan - see, even the name seemed a bad joke. We were in Seattle, Washington. Angry storm clouds were gathering. Summer was over, ditto the camping season. Uh-oh. Our induction into sleeping in our new home on wheels came in wet weather, soon to become cold weather. I worried that we may never come to feel this great sense of living close to nature and getting up with the lark. Quite frankly, it felt like sleeping in a car. Our new camping stove lay unused in the storage area below our bed, the alfresco cooking rained off. We shivered at night. Sometimes it took us well into the evening - autumn darkness descended - to find a campsite. Driving through National Forest campgrounds trying to locate a suitable pitch in absolute blackness, your headlights throwing shadows in scary directions, was not exactly the way to relax into a good night’s sleep. At times it felt like The Blair Witch Project. Our interior car lights were always on a timer, and when they went off suddenly, I’d feel a shudder. Not to mention the very real threat of bears, which the campsite warnings made very clear, could be stalking around right outside your window looking for food.

I’ve never been a bad sleeper, but I definitely felt my pulse quicken at the prospect of some of these nights, and my bear paranoia certainly contributed to a number of restless ones. Thankfully, Sam never seemed to get ruffled by anything, and eventually his mellowness and taste for the rougher side of adventure wore off. I made a decision to abandon my anxieties and let myself enjoy this mode of sleep, feeling nursed, not threatened, by the black depths outside, and empowered by the fact we were the only souls around for miles. Our home on wheels had taken on the character of a protective shell, and even if everything was barren and strange outside, inside I could sleep safely.

Little by little, we found our groove with sleeping - and living - in the van. Gradually we noticed that we had begun to fix our body clocks to the daylight, getting an early night when darkness fell, and rising early in the morning. This diurnal rhythm - nice when you don’t have to go to work - made every night’s rest feel refreshing. As did all the fresh air. The tranquillity of sleeping out in the great national parks in America was at times overwhelming. In Death Valley, we saw more stars studding the night sky than at any time in our lives - then I’d take two steps into a warm bed, lock the door and feel these surrounding landscapes seep into my dreams. In Zion Canyon, we woke up freezing cold, unable to get our joints moving in the direction of the cold-water restrooms. But these discomforts were trifling and momentary, when the sun got high enough to light the landscape in its brilliance, and we located the nearest vat of steaming coffee. Our bed on wheels brought us not just close to, but to the centre of, these phenomenal experiences.

In fact, being asleep sometimes felt like a waste. Camping in White Sands National Monument, a stark expanse of white gypsum dunes in the middle of the New Mexico desert, was like walking on the moon. There was so much moonlight, we were still awake at 3am, not ready to miss this eerie twilight. For hours we slid repeatedly down the sand like two Olympic toboganners lost in space. At times, we felt we were treading in the footsteps of pioneer wagons bringing families westwards, sleeping in their travelling cots. At other times we were like the surfers who pull up in their vans on the Big Sur and kip for the night, before getting an early hit at the waves. In the Everglades, we left the door open too long, and had to massacre about 100 mosquitoes that flew inside, before we could even think about drifting off.

We watched gorgeous sunsets while we toasted the world from the back hatch at night, and saw the road unfold by day through its front window. Between us, we read thousands of lines of literature by torchlight, waiting for sleepiness to settle. It seemed we had made the right decision to take to the road with our bed, some road trip tunes on our iPod, a six pack of beer and a map. We came to love our van, and I feel a little guilty when we leave it parked outside a hotel when we venture inside for the odd night.

During our eight months of enjoying the thrill of open terrain, we pretty much always found a secure (and usually scenic) place to camp, in exchange for a few dollars. Yet we met several other travellers who chose to simply pull over into a quiet side street to rest for the night. This seemed intrepid to us, but they often ran into problems with law enforcement. It seems that increasingly it is frowned upon to just find a place to sleep in a public place. But several people do, and I guess they enjoy the ultimate freedom.

We visited one place in California, known as Slab City; part of which featured in Sean Penn’s movie Into the Wild. In the film enlightened hobo Chris McCandless meets Catherine Keener‘s character, another “rubber tramp” whose choice is to live nomadically in her mobile home. The Slabs are a vast boondocking site on an old army barracks in the middle of the California desert. A nowhere place, in California’s poorest county, it is known as the one place it is still possible to sleep in your car without the police, or property owners, bothering you. As you drive up, a sign says, Welcome to the Last Free Place. California has so many homeless that many people sleep in their cars on the beach, but the authorities constantly move people on. When the weather gets cold in winter, and the desert grows milder, Slab City’s population grows, some say to 100,000. A city of people, sleeping in old converted schoolbuses, tent trailers, cars, winnebagos. Even vacationing snowbirds driving south in their expensive rigs to escape the harsh winter in the Midwest come here. Everything goes. We didn’t sleep here, but the ethos made me want to. The last free place. To get your night’s rest, undisturbed. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask, does it?

For more on Fiona and Sam’s rubber tramp adventures, see http://railroaders.wordpress.com

Something Rotten - A Cautionary Tale

Sat, 13 Mar 2010 20:23:22 +0000

 It smelt like death. Then it smelt like cheese. It had gone from a waft to a distinct presence. A curled mouse perhaps, dead behind the skirting, or *gulp* something bigger? The horror. My tiny kitchen was suddenly reeking like a medieval charnel house and worse, I couldn’t work out where it was coming from.

Cif Bleach was called into action, the fridge was scoured. Cillit Bang! was soused into the pail and the floor was scrubbed. Bang! And the smell was… still there.

And I like to think that I’ve got a nose… for a mystery, but also for the olfactory. So I put it to use. On the floor, under the sink, under the cooker… along the shelves, past the various unused balsamic vinegars, past the empty biscuit tin, past the box of sleepy tea, with its promises of dozy pleasures, past the Typhoo, past the… wait a second. Back up. Back to the tea… no not the beautiful ‘phoo, the now stinking Dr Stuart’s Valerian. Mein Gott.

There it was. The source. The motherlode. The Pit. I put my nose to the bottom of the box of herbal teabags and inhaled. My nostrils were engulfed with wave upon wave of noxious filth. A slurry pit was emptied straight onto my nasal receptors. Gag. Gag. Another sniff. Gag. That’s it.

I couldn’t quite believe it. I didn’t want to, I suppose because The Tea was my saviour, my new best friend, my ally in rest. I didn’t want to think that the Tea I had been given by my partner a couple of days earlier, the Tea that he bought for me, brewed for me, gave me in The Wiener Dog cup, gave me while I sat in bed, my head racing, another night of upset sleeplessness waiting for me, that this holy Tea could smell like a WW1 trench.

Because this tea had worked.

Apparently a natural sedative, which works on the same brain bits as Valium, but without the strength or the nasty bits, Valerian had hailed me, brave Roman, and held me, and laid me down to sleep.

And not just me, but my partner too. Both of us had sipped, and slipped into a dozy state within minutes. And it had tasted perfectly pleasant while the bag was infused in the cup. The sleep that night was deep. I woke in the morning without grogginess.

The next night the same. Then the smell came. It’s the oil, from the root, apparently. It works like catnip too, and ratnip as well; the Pied Piper’s magic ingredient.

I sealed the Valerian bags in the empty biscuit tin, opened the window, and marveled at the original colour of the gas hobs.

How music & sleep go hand in hand

Tue, 9 Feb 2010 14:23:17 +0000

The calming effect of lullabies is recognised across the world and we’ve been singing our babies to sleep for centuries.

For many, the idea of music as a source of relief and relaxation carries seamlessly into adult life, but it’s something of which we don’t always make full use.

However, in a world where getting a good night’s sleep is an ever growing preoccupation, a new trend has popped up: sleep concerts - designed to lull the audience to sleep.

Originating in Japan, these unusual concerts have become a gently growing trend. Although the idea of sitting with a thousand people listening to music might sound a perverse way of getting to sleep, these events have proved surprisingly successful.

In 2008, the Dreams: Good Sleep Concert in Tokyo attracted 1,400 people - all of whom were presented with a pillow, blanket and slippers upon arrival. The idea for the gig followed the success of a CD originally produced for Japan Airlines, designed to encourage weary travellers to sleep during flights.
 The music featured on the CD and in the concert wasn’t just relaxing, it was scientifically tested to induce sleep. The twelve tracks on the CD were chosen from a long-list of 80 songs; all rigorously tested over 4 months by Takuro Endo, who runs a sleep clinic in Tokyo.

Although some audience members came with no intention of sleeping - just to enjoy the music - most claimed to have dozed off at some point and enjoyed the experience far more than they’d expected.

Whilst the Japanese sleep concerts have perhaps been the most mainstream events, in a different form sleep concerts have existed in the US since the 1980s, when ambient musician and composer Robert Rich regularly held night long concerts for sleeping audiences. The concerts would start at 10pm and run until 7am, when Rich would serve a wake-up cup of tea.