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Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
As always, I'm your host, Thomas.
Thanks so much for tuning in.
Tonight we'll enjoy the tranquility and restorative views at a sun-drenched waterfront hotel in Scandinavia.
In the 19th century, these secluded coastal hideaways were frequented by wealthy people who wanted to escape city life.
Nowadays, these charming beach hotels in northern Europe offer a peaceful getaway for anyone seeking days by the sea, or perhaps just a chance to experience a slower pace.
Shortly, Nadim will guide us as we go to our very own seaside Scandinavian hideaway.
We'll enjoy some relaxing excursions, comforting food and eventually retire to a peaceful private room for the evening.
A big thanks to Alicia Stefan for writing this one.
To prepare for our soothing story, start by letting go of anything that is mentally weighing you down.
Allow your breathing to lengthen with a gentle, steady inhale into the chest and stomach.
And then a smooth, relaxing exhale as your body sinks into the support of your bed.
Whatever concerns or stresses you may have experienced today, take a moment to set them aside.
Imagine perhaps, that you're wandering along a peaceful shoreline, your bare feet padding on the cool, compacted sand where the waves have touched the surface.
And any negative energy, any stress or worry can be sent down through your body with each exhale of the breath.
The energies move all the way down to the soles of your feet.
With each step, that stress or excess energy is absorbed into the sand.
And then, every time a wave comes in, it washes it away, removing any visual trace of your footsteps, but also carrying away whatever you've disposed of mentally.
Step by step, wave after wave, your body relaxes and your mind becomes clear.
Right now, your only job is to relax and enjoy the comfort of your bed so that you can give yourself a well-deserved, restorative night's sleep.
And you're in the perfect place to achieve that.
So just reassure yourself that sleep will come when the time is right.
Without any force.
Now, you're ready for your journey to the coastline of Northern Europe.
This is where our story begins. who recently arrived at a grand old hotel overlooking the shore.
This establishment, an elegant dame of the seaside, is painted bright white.
The building has a gabled roof with black shingles that are gently weathered by the sun.
It is a dignified place, not showy and it is only three floors tall.
The front of the building is lined with orderly rows of decorative windows.
The rooms on the highest floor have small balconies that jut out of dormers in the roof.
This hotel feels timeless. as if it has been sitting here happily for hundreds of years.
But it doesn't seem to be tired.
Instead, it emanates a feeling of steadfastness, of wisdom and persistence.
It is late afternoon, and the other guests are scarce.
You think they may be swimming, napping, or reading in the sun.
All of these ideas sound appealing, but you will save those options for tomorrow.
Right now, you are yearning to explore.
You borrow a bicycle that stands with a few others on the side of the building.
They are made available for guests, just waiting there cheerfully like a gift.
You have selected a silver beach cruiser with a basket on the front.
As you take it by the handlebars, you feel the delight of getting to ride it without making any arrangements or asking for permission.
It is simply yours for the afternoon.
Sitting back on the comfortable leather seat, you pedal forward.
You feel the solid presence of this heavy bike beneath you.
It is made for a leisurely, smooth ride, as if it will never have any need to move too urgently or rush to get anywhere.
You coast down a road parallel to the beach, sticking your feet wide out to each side, for the fun of it.
Even though there's not a single person in sight.
It's as if you are showing the world that you have a plan not to exert yourself.
You don't really know exactly where you are going, but you are hoping to eventually find your way to the water's edge.
A salty breeze is blowing past your ears.
It ruffles your sleeves gently as the sun shines warmly on your shoulders.
The road underneath your tires is well-worn in two large wheel tracks.
There is a grassy strip down the middle.
You watch the strip run by you, a line of green against light brown.
As you ride, the dunes rise up and down between the road and the waterfront.
When you speed up, pushing the pedals faster, the terrain rolls by rhythmically, taking on a mesmerizing quality.
In the spaces between the little hills you get glimpses of sparkling blue waves beyond, like a game of peekaboo.
You come to a wood plank walkway that heads in the direction of the water.
This is where you will pause.
Popping off your bicycle, you remove your shoes and put them in the basket that hangs off the front.
Then you begin walking the bicycle toward the surf.
The planks are smooth underfoot and dusted lightly with gritty sand that reminds you of large sugar crystals.
You wonder if you are the only person for miles around.
Hidden among the dunes, you are immersed in the rustling of the grasses.
They wave by the thousands around you.
Each individual blade joins with a thousand others in a subtle chorus.
The gulls cry out as they soar through the sky above.
Up ahead, you hear the relaxing sound of the sea crashing gently on the shore.
The boardwalk you are following gives the illusion of narrowing further on where it emerges from the dunes and ends on the beach.
The foamy surf gets closer and closer as you near that point.
You lean your bike against a grassy little hill.
It will be here for you when you return.
The powdery sand is loose under your feet at first.
Its color is very pale, ranging from almost white to shades of beige.
Your toes sink into it, the ground molding to their shape.
As you get closer to the water's edge, the texture of the sand changes, becoming packed and damp.
The temperature of it changes too, It retains the coolness of the water that has recently washed over it.
This part of the beach seems impervious to the warm rays of the sun.
You look down while you walk, relishing the idea that you have left your mark on this stretch of pristine shoreline.
But as you move, the footprints you made in the sand begin to fill with water.
The sea doesn't seem to mind your visit, but it won't let you lay any claim to its shores.
The tide is on its way out.
As you venture even closer, the water occasionally washes over your feet.
The sensation is bracing and cold, as the tiny waves briefly cover your toes and slide away, as if inviting you to give chase.
You are not completely alone as it turns out.
The only other people you see are a couple who are lounging some distance away in striped chairs.
As you watch, they stand up and run down to the surf, splashing boldly into the cold water.
They dive into the waves, determined to take the plunge.
Then, shivering lightly, they stand up dripping and laughing together.
Returning to their seats, they towel off and wrap themselves in thick, cosy hotel robes.
Then they open a wicker picnic basket and begin to share some fruit and cheese.
You realise you're beginning to think of dinner with happy anticipation, you turn and walk slowly back in the direction you came from, parallel to the surf.
You see that the shallow imprints your feet made on the way have already been politely erased by the waves.
You smile to yourself, acknowledging your role as a visitor to this beach.
In a way, It is a liberating feeling to only hear the sounds of nature.
You feel unobserved, like this is a secret escape.
It pleases you to think that even the marks you have made on the beach will vanish and your visit will leave no trace.
Smiling to yourself, you scan the dunes for your silver bicycle.
It is leaning against the grass exactly where you left it, waiting for you.
Your steps slow down even more as you walk from the wet area into the powdery dry part of the upper beach.
You focus again on how the small shifting mounds absorb your toes, covering them as if they are part of the earth.
You watch the grains of sand spill over your feet like the contents of an hourglass.
With each step, you feel the transition as you push from the ball of your foot, lifting your heel.
Walking almost feels meditative.
As you pick up your bike, you stand and survey the shore one more time.
The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow across the landscape.
The light creates a surprising impression of warmth, despite the breeze.
Birds sail back and forth through the air, following an inscrutable pattern.
Closing your eyes, you are still savouring the sound of the wind for a quiet moment.
Then you turn your bike and roll it back onto the weather-beaten boardwalk.
The sound of the surf gradually recedes behind you as the singing of insects in the grass becomes more audible.
After the sand, the wooden slats feel good under your feet.
So smooth.
When you reach the country road that brought you here, you stop to put your shoes back on.
Then you hop easily back onto your bike and push off with a gliding motion.
The ride home seems to go by quickly, but you don't mind, because you have a delicious dinner to look forward to.
Coasting back to the place where the bikes are stored.
You smile at your silver beach cruiser and return it.
You will borrow it again tomorrow.
Walking around to the side of the hotel you climb a couple of wide wooden steps that lead to the broad covered veranda.
There are many tables there for you to choose from.
Each one is surrounded by wicker chairs.
They are laid with crisp white tablecloth.
The place settings have shining silver flatware and white plates decorated with a delicate blue floral pattern.
Other diners recline here and there, taking up about a third of the other seats.
They have the carefree look of people who have spent the entire day unwinding.
They speak in low voices, laughing delicately and sipping from glasses containing water or fizzy drinks.
You choose a cozy spot in the corner and seat yourself.
There is a sweet little vase full of daisies in the middle of the table.
A server appears, offering friendly welcome. and fills your own glass with icy cold water and lemon.
The salty air has given you an appetite.
We review the elegant menu.
It is filled with lovely, fresh local choices that are perfect for dining outdoors.
When the server returns, you order a salad and another dish that appeals to you.
While you wait for your dinner, you lean back, enjoying the water view.
The sun is setting and the white sands make a contrast where they meet the pastel horizon.
The breeze that blows across your face is cooling down.
It will soon be the perfect sleeping temperature.
You think about how lovely it will be to pull the coverlet up to your shoulders tonight and drift off surrounded by the fresh air from the window.
But there is still more of the evening to enjoy first.
After a little while, the food arrives.
The salad is made of bright green, delicate lettuce and paper-thin sliced red radishes.
It is a feast for the eyes.
Your other dish is just as fresh.
It is just the right dinner for this beautiful place.
You think to yourself about how much a nice meal boosts your mood.
You appreciate the careful preparation that is obvious in every detail.
You eat slowly, savoring every bite.
It's not a heavy dinner, but you feel totally satisfied when you finally reached the last taste.
As your server clears your table, She invites you to enjoy a warm drink and some dessert in the sitting room.
You make your way through the door that leads inside from the veranda.
It opens to the entry of the hotel.
The breakfast room is to your left.
The rows of identical tables are already set for tomorrow morning, when you know the sun will be streaming brightly into that side of the hotel.
Down the hall, there is a small private gathering happening.
You can hear the low hum of conversation and the melodic sounds of a string quartet.
The music is lovely.
But you prefer to have this time to yourself.
You relish that feeling of being apart from the group, doing what you like.
To your right, you see the sitting room the server told you about.
There is a table set up for tea and coffee service.
A selection of elegant truffles and tempting cookies has been laid out for guests to sample.
Comfortable wingback chairs and overstuffed couches beckon.
You appear to have the entire place to yourself right now, which is exactly what you hoped for.
Twilight has fallen outside the windows, which are open just a bit.
The saltwater air drifts pleasantly across the cozy space.
Table lamps cast welcoming pools of gentle light throughout the room.
You pour your favorite evening drink and take a small plate with the dessert.
After selecting the most comfortable looking armchair, you sink into its soft embrace, placing your cup and plate on a nearby end table.
There is a stack of books here.
You open one and begin to read a chapter about local wildlife.
While you sip your drink ever so slowly, the sound of the distant surf forms a peaceful backdrop.
Meanwhile, the distant music of the string quartet reaches your sitting room from down the hall.
You smile to think that you are secretly getting a private concert.
Turning the pages of your book, you become absorbed by the illustrations of the birds you saw on the beach today.
Your mind is filled with descriptions of sandpipers, gulls and terns.
You slowly nibble your treat in small bites, taking long, soothing tastes of your warm drink.
Losing track of time, you sink ever deeper into the chair.
The surf and the music are lulling you into a drowsy state.
You are vaguely aware of a grandfather clock in the hall as it gently chimes the hour.
The music from the room down the hall quietly ceases.
There is a hum of activity, closer now, as the attendees of the party head up to their rooms.
They speak in warm, low voices, bidding each other goodnight.
You can't make out everything they are saying, but you imagine that they are perhaps making plans for tomorrow.
A walk. sunrise swim, a leisurely cup of coffee on the veranda.
As the voices dwindle in number, you realize you are quite sleepy and think longingly of your own tidy upstairs guest room with its window on the sea.
Closing the book, you run your fingers along the irregular edge of its heavy, cream-coloured pages.
Exhaling completely, you carefully place the book back on the stack where you found it.
Standing up, you stretch luxuriously.
You realize you have waited until the last of the other guests have vanished from the corridor.
The front hallway is silent, but for the ticking of the clock.
After slowly climbing the whitewashed wooden stairs, you make your way up to your room for the night.
Your door opens quietly when you turn the silver key in the lock.
The room is a modest size, which lends it an air of snug privacy.
The queen-size bed is furnished in simple light colors.
It has a weathered-looking antique metal bed frame and is piled with an abundance of soft cushy pillows.
In the rest of the room, the patterned wallpaper brings a homey touch to the otherwise simple decor.
A lamp glows cheerfully by your bedside and your fresh white sheets and a pale coverlet have been turned down by the staff.
You ready yourself for sleep, slipping on a velvety soft pair of flannel pyjamas.
You rest your feet just briefly on the age-worn wooden floorboard, remembering for a moment the similarly smooth wood of the boardwalk from earlier.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you lift your head and look straight out of your window, where the stars are twinkling over the sea.
A little breeze winds through the room, infusing it with a lovely salty freshness.
Sliding into the crisp, cool sheets, you stretch your legs.
You are completely comfortable here.
You breathe deeply and feel entirely relaxed as you turn out the lamp, causing its golden pool of light to vanish obligingly.
You snuggle down into your comforter and inhale deeply, letting the air back out in a sigh of contentment.
Lying there, you gaze at the moonlight, It forms a triangle on the painted white wood floors.
Somewhere down the hall, another door opens and closes quietly.
This entire seaside retreat is going to sleep for the night as if in silent agreement, feel like you are cleverly hidden away in this sweet, safe place.
A sense of relaxation evades the entire hotel.
Everyone here seems so happy and well.
Your mind wanders.
As your eyes begin to feel heavier, Closing them.
You see the boardwalk again in your mind.
It stretches almost to the horizon, just a line between the sand dunes.
The smell of saltwater is all around you, and the grasses whisper mysteriously in the wind.
You are sinking into a state of total relaxation.
Your mind is free of structured thought.
Your breathing becomes slower and deeper.
And eventually...
On your own time and in your own way.
You fall into a deep sleep and wade into beautiful dreams about the beautiful Scandinavian beach hotel and your plans there for tomorrow.
We'll be right back.
