Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Chapter 2--The Closet Under the Eaves

So the hotel where I’m staying is nice, and it certainly is inexpensive: €30 per night. I am in room 401, to which Maria, the nice lady who runs the desk and who speaks no English, directed me by pointing upstairs and saying “sempre, sempre” while gesturing in an upward spiral. So up the stairs I go, to discover my cute room on the top floor.

Where I can stand up straight only at the center of the room.

And where I can’t stand up straight in the bathroom at all.

The first night I bashed my head three times in quick succession when getting ready for bed. (OK, I was jet-lagged and I’d been to the Opening Ceremonies where I’d washed ashore with some of the Scotland team and consumed what was arguably too many mojitos.)

So now I’ve pretty much got it wired. Haven’t hit my head since that first night.

But I feel like Harry Potter.

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