The motion-activated sensor prompted the glass door to open as I climbed my way six-steps up to the hotel’s entrance. It was rather
"The hallway is carpeted with green and fractals of criss-crossed lines complimenting the cream colored walls and door..."
narrow compared to what I got used to in Saudi Arabia . Hotel Mozart is a small 3-star hotel which kind of suited my desire of not being overwhelmed in anticipation of the rate. Although I have booked in advance in the same hotel as required by the Italian embassy back in Riyadh , it was a shared room with two other members from the group. For now, I will be booking for a single room out of my own pockets. A goodlooking male receptionist along with his equally attractive female colleague were manning the counter. “Preggo Signore! “ saluted the young man. By this time, I have already figured out that preggo could mean “welcome” or “come in” or things of that nature. After explaining to them that I was supposed to be with a group and we have already booked for a night only after two days from now, it was clear to them that I will be paying for my own bills only until then. They quoted me a 60 Euro/ night for a single room- bed and breakfast. I was too tired to think whether it was a reasonable price or not (in retrospect, it was indeed cheaper compared to the others). I was given a key with a big and solid brass metal which seemed to me weighed like a little less than a kilo. Either that or its just too large and heavy enough for you to carry around so you would definitely not forget to leave it in the counter before you go out of the hotel. Embossed on the plate is the number “501” my room number. The bellboy led me to the lift which was way too small for 4 persons as indicated in the control panel. The way up to the fifth floor seemed like eternity. With the elevator’s cramped space and slow motion made it even harder to breathe for someone like me who’s got claustrophobic tendencies. A soft “ding!” indicated that we’re finally on the floor. The door split open at a snail’s pace and even before it fully opened, I was already halfway through.
My room is just about a couple of doors away from the elevator.
"...on one corner is a glass cubicle obviously where you take a shower ..."
My room is just about a couple of doors away from the elevator. The hallway is carpeted with green and fractals of criss-crossed lines complimenting the cream colored walls and doors. The bellboy left as soon as we arrived at the door. As I opened the door, I would go through a (3-steps) narrow way leading to the bed. To the left is the bathroom which I inspected first, clean of course complete with towels of different sizes (makes me wonder how much towels do you need in a day?). There were small containers of shampoo, conditioner, small packets of soap- the usual stuff you’d find in a hotel. There’s a wall-mounted hair dryer and on one corner is a glass cubicle obviously where you take a shower and opposite is the medium-sized bathtub halfway covered with swivel glass instead of shower curtain. In totality, it was impressive enough I thought. Next thing, I was belly flat as if I was unloading my weariness to the bed. The split-type air conditioner at arms length just below the window was off and after moments of tinkering with the control panel, it wouldn’t turn on. I called the desk and learned that they don’t operate air conditioners at this cold season. Right, perhaps I just felt warm because I’ve been walking for hours but I need to feel a little motion of air or I would feel suffocated so I pulled the two-panel drapes on opposite sides and opened the window. They were right it was indeed cold and the cold, crisp air gently seeped its way through the open window giving me the ventilation that I so desperately need. As I lay on the single bed, my eyes roamed freely on the four corners of the small room. It was presentable enough for me. There’s a small closet (with a safebox inside) on the left corner at the foot of the bed.
"Everything was just perfect, promising me a sound sleep later on."
The dresser is actually one piece with the closet and has a marble table top and on it is a small 14-inch tv monitor. A mirror is fixed on the wall and on top of it is a small elegant lamp. Everything was just perfect, promising me a sound sleep later on. The time on my cellphone flashed 7:45pm, an hour earlier than Saudi Arabia time. No wonder I was hungry, I ate nothing the whole day aside from the panini earlier this afternoon. Unfortunately, there’s no room service for the hotel serves breakfast only so I decided to go out and check where to eat to close the long day I had. Along the street where the hotel is located are small bars, small restos, pizza stands. As I passed by the small bar, there was a drunk Italian lady who stopped my tracks and was trying to pull me inside the bar. I was dumb-founded although it wasn’t actually a scary situation, I just wasn’t expecting it and I have gone through enough during the day. Her friends came out and pulled her back to the bar and one of which came up to me and said the words “scuza signore” nicely. It’s OK, I;ve gone through worse and hopefully that was the last for the day. I wanted to stick around the pizza shop but in the hopes of not having anymore complications, unlikely situations or any other unexpected moments, I decided to just take the pizza to my room. I sat on the bed with my back against the soft, padded headboard. The TV was showing America ’s Next Top Model dubbed in Italian. I checked the rest of the channels and the rest are dubbed in Italian so I lost my interest. I was already full eventhough I haven’t even finished my second slice of the ultra-thin yet super-large slice of pizza. I was just too tired to even examine what I was eating. I took a warm bath and before I knew it, I was already dozing off. The following morning, I woke up to a cold breeze gently blowing at my face. It was too cold that I couldn’t even muster enough courage to get out from under the warm comforter and walk towards the window to close it- I did anyway, I had to. I was up anyway so I headed to the shower and had a nice, invigorating warm bath. It felt even colder when I stepped out of the shower and I was literally shaking as I reached for the dryer like it was a life-saving device. The hot air it blew felt nice on my wet and cold skin. Soon enough I was warm and dry enough to get back to the bed room and dress up for breakfast. There were two old couples with me on the elevator ride talking in a familiar American accent about how small their room was as we descend down to the breakfast buffet at the lower ground of the hotel. I was expecting pasta will be one of the items on the buffet table but there was none, not even one. There were breads, different kinds of breads, crackers. mortadella, salami, different kinds of cheese, different kinds of fruit jam in a disposable single serve containers and a lot of fresh fruits. On the other side is a longer buffet table with cereals, milk, coffee/capuccino urn salads, teas and cakes. I stuffed myself with almost everything before I headed back to my room to get my small bag with which I can put my wallet, passport, cellphone and camera. I left the room key with the same guy at the frontdesk who booked me in last night- the lady was no longer with him.
