Much as I love travelling I always savour that first night back in my own bed. When I got home from York I woke the next morning with my head still full of how life was for ordinary people in medieval York and I though how very rich I am.
I was lying in a soft warm bed in a room of my own (not shared with other people or with animals), between clean sheets of finely woven Egyptian cotton. I rested my head on a soft pillow of duck feathers which was made for me half a world away in China, and the prettily decorated pillowcase was sent from Vietnam. I was wearing a pure cotton nightdress decorated with embroidery and brought from India. A faux fur throw made in Britain gives an extra luxurious feel to the bed. What's more is that I have spares and extras of all of these goods, as have most of the people I know.
It was snowy outside but the room was warm without even a draught of cold air and I could adjust the temperature at the flick of a switch. A flick of a switch also produced instant light. No naked flames are needed for either the heat or the light. At 6 am I heard the huge snow plough and gritter go by. An army of men and women are out during the night working to keep the roads passable. We don't pay directly for this to happen - or have servants to do it for us - but each pays a small amount according to their means. The poorest don't pay anything towards it.
I go downstairs to a clean flushing toilet in a separate room for bathing. The waste is dealt with by sophisticated systems and invisible others, as in all houses, even the poorest. There are scented soaps and lotions and soft towels, and I turn on a tap for instant clean water, both cold and hot.
And this is all before breakfast!
My ancestors would be astonished at how richly I live.
I am too when I think about it.