I’m writing this in my room, although it will have to be posted later in the wi-fi friendly lobby. As I am writing, the sounds of the city of Brasilia are sifting across my eighth-floor balcony and through the open sliding glass doors of my hotel room. It’s Sunday, and our guide Roberto told us that because of the weekend and because of the four-day national holiday we’re coming in at the tale of the city is mostly empty and quiet today. It’s peaceful.
The hotel, the Naoum Plaza, is gorgeous. My room here for some reason reminds me tremendously of my little apaato back in Japan. Maybe it’s the balcony. Maybe it’s the wood floors. Maybe it’s the neatness of everything being in its proper place with no excess. For whatever reason, that spark of familiarity pleases me to no end.
The room itself is gorgeous. Keeping in mind that I am most often a budget traveler, it is extremely nice, comfortable, clean, airy, large, with generous amenities including a shower the likes of which I have not seen in a long time. I look forward to making its acquaintance this evening when we’re done for the day. I have a feeling I’ll be ready for sleep when night comes, too. The sleep I got on the plane was not particularly good sleep even though I did sleep for most of the trip. Today, we’re settling in, going on a site-seeing tour, getting “oriented.” Wading in. That seems to be a good way to think about it. I’m grateful for that. Trips that are all go-go-go sometimes wear me out. Trips that are all deconstructed waiting can be just as bad. This one, starting out as it is with a peaceful morning to get our feet back under us, seems to be just right.
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