(Feb. 9, 2012)
“Turista ka ba?”, (Are you a tourist?)
asked a friendly young guy who smiled at me during my Cafe 1927 breakfast. I answered him with my usual riddling answers,
“Just for today.”
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| The Inn's Cafe 1927 where complimentary breakfast is served |
And it’s true! Yesterday and two years and a month ago, I was officially a resident of Roxas City. But today, after a Herculean day of cleaning and a week of packing and throwing and selling away stuff, I surrendered the keys to our beloved Roxas home to the owner (actually, to our neighbor, as suggested by our kind landlord for my convenience). So I spent last night at Park Central Inn, the place I wanted to be in because of its charming location. It is nestled right at the heart of the city just a stone’s throw away from the Cathedral, the City Hall, the romantic bridge and river I’ve been babbling about in my previous post. Errr, ok, so I thought that that original post was enough to say goodbye to Roxas, but it wasn’t enough I figured. I did not plan this, but I’m afraid, it has become a Goodbye, Roxas !series. Blame it on the Cafe 1927 windows that pumped my writing juices.
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| The Inn's facade with the monument of former President Manuel Roxas |
Today, however, I look at the city with a tourist’s perspective. So after breakfast I wandered off the streets to snap pictures of the part of the city where I believe the government and entrepreneurs can improve on to make it more attractive, romantic and a tourist magnet. As it started to drizzle, I had to go back to my room and go back in time. Yes, I feel nostalgic over my departure from this city, but what I mean by “going back in time” when I went back to my room is that the room is old, well at least, the setting right outside my room is eerily vintage. Inside the room, however, it was bearable, but it wasn’t exactly a posh place to stay in but at least, it did not raise goosebumps and my dust and allergen sensors did not set off, save for some bearable itch on my legs when I lay on the small bed and a short bout of sneezes when I woke up. These are minor compared to a place we stayed in Bacolod.
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| The eerie corridor to my room with its wooden floors |
The inn is an old-fashioned wooden structure. The sound of wood floor enduring heavy footsteps jolted me awake from the elusive sleep I managed to catch. I had a terrible time getting some sleep, thanks to the place, my wild imagination, and my paranoia that no other guests seem to be checked in. If not for the back-breaking cleaning and packing up I did yesterday, I may have been awake all night. I actually checked the room before checking in and I even backed out. However, the regular rooms at the Midtown Hotel were all booked as there were only four of them. Thank goodness, I endured the night at the old inn and I was relieved to find out at breakfast in the morning that there were several guests, a Caucasian couple, some sales reps and even a Med Rep acquaintance. That made me decide to stay another night in the inn and give up the reservation I made at the Midtown. This means I can take pictures of this part of the city at night as it looks romantic when the night has fallen and the lights are on. But when I used the bathroom again and noticed the rusty pipes, I changed my mind again and decided to give Midtown a try. Let’s see if my writing fever continues there.
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| The reception area with the friendly receptionist |
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