Seriously, I have promised myself that I will finish this white paper I am working on before I do anything else. Except breathe. And drink a lot of water which is good for you. And then of course, pee. And I have been working really hard, until I had to search for a research paper online and I came across this picture, completely by accident, of Le Meridien Bora Bora…
It, how did you say it, oh yeah,
Simply. Took. My. Breath. Away.
I couldn’t go back to do whatever I was doing until I spent some time daydreaming about it…
I love hotels. I think my love for travelling, my Wanderlust, stemmed from my very basic fascination with hotels from a very young age. (Ok, the clean, fancy kind. Or at least, the not spooky gross-out kind. Not the ones looking like they are from the movie Barton Fink, oh no…) My mom worked as a hotel maid and she sneaked me into the hotel when she couldn’t find or afford a babysitter. Sometimes, after I begged her to smuggle me in. Literally. Many times I rode on the bottom of the service cart, camouflaged by a bed linen. I was always excited. Hotels to me are where dreams are made of. Clean, fluffy linens and pillows. Nicely made beds.
(Of course I understand the hard work put in by the hotel cleaning staff. Until this day, I clean up after myself as much as I can whenever I stay in a hotel…)
I don’t even care about Bora Bora. No offence to people who are Bora Bora-nese? Bora Bora-en? I am sure it is a gorgeous tropical paradise, Kodak moment everywhere you turn. What I am trying to say is: I just want to go there so I can stay in one of these bungalows, over the lagoon, before I die.
That’s all I’ve got to say.
Edited to add, now that I have 5 minutes to regroup from my initial shock: Preferably without kids. Thank you.