Sons and Daughters

Motherhood is a long series of subtle separations starting when your baby separates from your body.  From nursling to toddler to pre-schooler, each separation is a hard-won triumph but then all of a sudden they’re in middle school and you spend very few hours a week with them.  The greatest pleasure (and greatest trial) of this trip has been spending almost every minute of everyday with Nick and Nora.  I haven’t had this kind of time with them since they were babies, and back then they weren’t very good conversationalists.  That’s not to say they’re ready for a table at the Algonquin, but they are much more interesting now than they were then.

Nicholas has an amazing laugh that we don’t get to see much at home.  When he really gets going, his eyes close, his nose scrunches up and his body rocks from side to side in silent laughter before he can catch a breath and start the giggling proper.  I’ve also learned that he’s pretty good at remembering and telling jokes.

Politically, I get the feeling that he’s kind of center-right, his loathing of President Bush notwithstanding (and I had nothing to do with that, he picked it up from a babysitter he admired).  He is saddened by the lack of peace in the world, but also thinks we should go to war with China over Tibet.  It also turns out that Nicholas feels contempt for both missionaries and communists.  In the east and south of India, there is a strong communist party presence and when he saw their flags he let fly with a stream of invective.  I didn’t even know he knew what communism was.  The missionary thing was even more interesting because he really seemed to put some thought into what it means to replace one religious culture with another.  “You should never try to take someone’s religion away from them,” is how he put it.  That applies to both evangelists and communists.

Today he told me he’s thinking about studying psychology in college because he feels he’s pretty empathetic—unless you’re a religious nut or a dirty commie, I guess.

The one thing it would have been useful to know before taking him to India: he hates crowds.  Oops. 

Nora, who follows the rules pretty closely at home, has applied her own rules to everything here.  We like to say that in the Republic of Norastan things run differently.  For example, in the Republic of Norastan, one stands while eating. “I’m not built to sit still,” she says when I ask her for the fifth time why she is standing while eating her meal.  In the Republic of Norastan, kids don’t go to bed until ten o’clock, don’t need to brush their teeth and they eat candy after breakfast.  Unfortunately for Nora, her mom and dad don’t live in Norastan, but I admire her effort to exert a little control over the wacky situation we put her in.  We broke the rules of parenting by upending the safety and security of home and school, and turnabout is fair play. 

Not only has Nora inherited her father’s card playing ability, she’s raised trash talking at the card table to an absolute art form.  She is quick with a quip and it’s usually pretty spot on.  Try not to get insulted by Nora, because it’ll probably hurt.  We estimate that she’s played about 500 games of gin since we arrived, probably more. 

It’s been no surprise to us that Nora misses her very active social life, but we’ve been amazed at her nuanced analysis of her social network.  Nora likes almost every kid she meets and she’s adept at finding common ground with anyone.  When she talks about her friends, even the ones she hasn’t know very long, she can tell us a lot about what they like and don’t like and who they mix well with.  She’s still young enough that there is a charming lack of judgment.  Some people get along, some people don’t, it’s no big.  I wonder how she’ll do in the enemy-of-my-friend-is-my-enemy territory that is upper elementary.   

But the best thing I’ve learned about Nora on this trip is that she laughs in her sleep.   

As for what they have learned about us, the mystery that is one’s parents, I don’t really know.  We’ve had time to tell lots of forgotten family stories about our childhoods, our families and the world we grew up in.  I wonder what they’ll remember.

When we get back to our regular lives next week, there will be things I will miss about being in India, but mostly I will miss my kids.  

Improvising Hanukah, Or Why You Can't Keep the Jews Down

Not only is it Christmas time, but it's one of those years when the yuletide overlaps with the festival of lights.  The kids love when this happens.  It's all presents all the time.  This year there are no presents, just promissory notes.   They've seemed to have accepted that pretty well but the lack of a real menorah rankles.

Here's an excerpt from Nicholas' journal about our Rube Goldberg hanukiah:

"First of all I wouldn't be in this mess if Dad had brought the hanukiah and the candles, but he left them at home.  Now that it is holiday time we have a dilemma.  It was easy to find enough candles, so the trouble was with a replacement hanukiah. We found a perfectly nice silver platter for only 38 rupees (75 cents), but Dad wanted something more special which was annoying.  We then started to look for the tin containers bindi powder is kept in.  Finally, Dad got 9 cups with one taller than the others for the shamash."

Here are a couple of pictures:

We've mostly been lighting candles at restaurants so we don't have to sit around the hotel room waiting for the candles to burn out.  The wonderful thing about India is that no one seems to mind what strange little ritual you get up to.  It's all good.  The bad thing about lighting candles in Southern India is that most of the restaurants are open air and the wind blows the candles out.  Whenever the wind starts blowing we make lame jokes about needing a miracle to keep them lit.

What Nicholas left out of his story was a description of David searching through the bazar in Mysore.  We must have stopped at every tin tinker's stall, shifting through all their merchandise and completely unable to explain what we wanted or needed.  But,  love our cup hanukiah.  It's collapsible, utterly Indian, somewhat kosher and it only cost $1.75!  It's everything I think is wonderful about Judaism.  It doesn't require bricks and mortar, you can worship anywhere (and really observant Jews do worship anywhere and everywhere) as long as you know the prayers.  You don't even really need a rabbi; although ideally it's nice to have other Jews for the minyan.  You and your god, then your family, then your community: an ever-widening circle that shrinks or expands to fit the circumstances.  It's not really Christmas for us not being with my family, but give us 44 candles, 9 cups and a pack of matches and it is Hanukah.

Marvalli Tiffin Room

Would you believe the best authentic meal we’ve had in India was served to us by barefoot men from tin buckets?

Before we left on this trip, when I was asked, “why India?” I would half jokingly say “because I love Indian food”.  Unfortunately, we’ve been sorely disappointed by much of the Indian food that we were served in Rajasthan and North India (Tibetan momos being the one notable exception).  We had some excellent meals at high-end hotels but the bulk of what we ate was greasy, heavy and uninteresting.  The meat was stringy or fatty and the vegetables were cooked within an inch of their life.  Lisa and Nicholas were pretty sick the entire time we were in Rajastan and Nora refused to eat anything.  After the first week, it wasn’t just the kids who were clamoring for pizza and pasta at the end of each day.  Things improved once we made it further south as we could start eating some pretty high quality seafood and fresh fruit but on the whole this vacation has been a culinary let down. 

However our lunch the other day surpassed our initial expectations, heartened our foodie souls, and let us in on a uniquely Indian experience.  Our guidebooks (which had led us astray before) both recommended Marvalli Tiffin Rooms (MTR), a family-run Bangalore institution established in the 40’s, as having good vegetarian thali and so when we were hungry after our morning of sightseeing, we decided to give it a try.  The MTR is a cross between a Chinatown dim sum palace, a southern cafeteria and a church spaghetti dinner.  We walked in and first paid for our lunch then joined in a jostling line of Indian families waiting for Sunday lunch.  Once they called our number, we were rushed into a drab dining room and seated at a plain wood table set with no silverware, no plates and no menu just cups of water and cold pressed-grape juice.  A barefoot server came out and one dropped metal plates on our table.  The plates themselves resemble middle school cafeteria trays but with a crescent of  seven divots surrounding the main eating area.  Then with in a few minutes the food started making the rounds.  

Thali consists of a set menu and our servers couldn’t explain what they were serving as they spoke exactly as much English as we spoke Malayalam. About ten different servers (all barefoot!) went from table to table unceremoniously dolloping each dish out of two gallon metal buckets into the appropriate divot on the plate.  The food was delicious, vegetarian and a wonderful mix of spicy, sweet, sour and salty.  The pros ate it with just their hands and fresh whole-wheat dosas (pancakes) while we resorted to using spoons that were the sole piece of silverware provided to us.  The locals’ use of their hands was doubly impressive, as napkins weren’t provided.  We counted at least twelve different courses including dessert of coconut/burnt sugar/chickpea goo and we were totally sated for a whopping $1.65 per person. 

Nicholas adds: “ Despite how much my parents say that the food at the MTR was delicious.  I still think that the meal was the worst I had in all of the two months.”

 

We have started to get our New Years cards in the post but here is an electronic version:

Greetings from India!  This is Lord Ganesha.  He is believed to be the god of good fortune and prosperity as well as the remover of obstacles.  We wish you all of these blessing in 2009.

Happy New Years and all our best.

David, Lisa, Nicholas and Nora

Travel Diary

My brother emailed to remind me that I hadn’t written in the blog for ten days so I though that I would put together a brief diary.

 

12- 5 through 12-7 Goa

When we decided to avoid Mumbai, we elected to head a little further south to Goa and stay at the Taj resort.  It was fantastic.  There was a children’s activity center where Nora was the first child to show up and the last to leave.  It was “paradisical” enough for Nicholas.  And Lisa and I relaxed in a setting that was a lot closer to the Bahamas than the rest of India.  After five weeks of schlepping, mixed quality food and dodgy hotels, it was an unimaginable pleasure to sink in the tropical luxury of the Taj Holiday Village.  I’m not sure what was the greater pleasure: the swim up bar in the pool, New York quality pizza, Indian food that had been toned down to American tastes or other people taking care of my children but we enjoyed them all thoroughly. 

 

Lisa adds:  There comes a time in every long trip when you have to take the Am Ex option: Where’s the nicest place I can go and how fast can I get there?  And, by the way, the pedicure was the greatest pleasure.  You all should have had one.

 

12-8 Flew into Kochi

While we were able to spend the morning hanging out by the pool in Goa, we wound up spending the rest of the day traveling to Kochi. 

 

12-9 Munnar

The better part of today was spent driving up to Munnar which is up in the mountains and is the gateway to the Periyar wilderness.  We saw a couple of waterfalls and acres of tea plantations.  Theoretically there are beautiful overlooks into the valley but the clouds and the rain put the kibosh on that. 

 

12-11 and 12-10 Periyar

There was a short drive from Munnar to Periyar this morning before we went to the highly recommended and extremely yummy Chrissie’s Café for lunch.  We saw a small spice plantation that was shown in the BBC series around the world in 80 gardens.  They grew everything from cocoa beans to vanilla to the ubiquitous cardamom.  Plus there were tons of different flowers, orchids and other plants.  The following morning we went on a three-hour hike through the park.  We saw otters, wild boar, monkeys, malabar squirrels and a tiger track.  There was evidence of the incredibly stealthy elephants but naturally we didn’t see any.  Quite possibly the highlight of the hike was at the end when we took off our shoes and saw why were wearing anti-leech footwear.  There were easily two dozen leeches between us and Lisa actually found one clinging to her shin later (which is entirely harmless other than the creep factor).  We returned to Chrissie’s for lunch as once we find a good restaurant, we are incredibly loyal.  That afternoon we went on a boat ride around the park, which was relaxing but seeing any interesting wild animals was a pipe dream given how loud the boats were.  That evening we saw a pretty cool demonstration of the local martial arts. 

 

12-12 Kumarkom

We spent the morning driving down off the mountain to our hotel at the edge of the backwaters.  It was nice in that you had to take a boat to get to the hotel and there was a nice pool which was appreciated in the mid day heat.  We went on a small boat ride around the nature preserve seeing herons, cranes, kingfisher and the not very exotic ducks. 

 

Lisa adds: We went to the local Taj resort (there’s one everywhere) for dinner, yet again, and had a really nice bottle of chardonnay (of all things) from a region of France I’d never heard of.  When the sun when down, the women came out and lit oil lamps around the lake.  Stunning and peaceful.

 

12-13 Houseboat through the backwaters

The houseboat ride through the backwaters was one of the highlights of the trip for me.  We were picked up at our hotel by a houseboat—a 90-foot long barge that has been converted, then cruised down the canals and lakes that make up the backwaters.  It was supremely relaxing as I was able to sprawl out on the cushion in the bow of the boat and read for hours while the kids did their homework.  The passing scenery was beautiful with rice paddies stretching for miles around and there were untold quantities of birds flying around.  The staff of three people took care of all the meals so we could just sit back and enjoy.  After dinner we crowded around the computer and watched Ratatouille and then sat in the dark so we could see the bats flying around the boat. 

 

12-14 through 12-18 Varkala Beach

We originally planned our longish trip to Varkala Beach before we knew that we were going to spend a couple of days in Goa so initially we were concerned that our stay here was going to be overly long.   Particularly since there isn’t all that much to do here besides go to the beach.  Our hotel wasn’t luxurious but was clean.  In addition, this was the first hotel to look at our foursome and realize that they could up-sell us to a two bedroom suite.  Which cost an additional 400 rupees a day (approximately $8) and was money well spent.   We quickly found a lunch place called the Juice Shack which was appropriately named because it really was just a shack with a couple of juicers.  But they made good sandwiches and excellent smoothies so we ate there four days in a row. 

 

Our typical day was spent relaxing at the beach where Nora would spend hours and hours playing in the surf along with her new friend Eloise.  Nicholas chillaxed while reading the “Hitchikers Guide to the Universe” and laughed incessantly at what he describes as “the best book ever”.  At night, we would wander along the beach path where the restaurants have their fresh fish displayed.  We’d pick one of the similar restaurants and have a meal which generally consisted of a whole grilled red snapper for five dollars, pizza, coconut curry with chicken, kingfisher beer and a couple of fresh lime sodas.  Even on our final day here when Nora had developed a rash where her bathing suit had rubbed her legs raw, we were able to have a fun day shopping for presents.  Despite our concerns about boredom, we had a wonderful time.

Quote of the Day

Nicholas "A martial arts display...  I'm going to hate that"

Afterwards

Nicholas "That was AWESOME"  Demonstrating why his nickname is "Initially Reluctant Markus"

Nora's Elephant Ride

Here is a video of Nora's elephant ride up to the Amber Fort in Jaipur.

Some Beach Photos

I Love the Taj

So we only had about 5 hours to spend in Calcutta which despite the whole unfortunate “Black Hole of Calcutta” nickname is a fairly interesting city.  Lisa and I read through the guidebooks and unfortunately we didn’t have the daylight hours to see the town’s colonial era town center or any other of the major sites.  So we decided to walk from our hotel down the Park Avenue of Calcutta to get dinner at the highly regarded restaurant at the Taj Bengal hotel.  We headed out with a tourist map and a general sense of direction.  We walked down the busy street lined with vendors good naturedly hocking all kinds of merchandise and foods. Predictably we passed the landmarks on our maps although each one was a little farther away than we imagined.  We eventually reached the street where we need to turn and headed across town.  This street was a little less crowded and the kids were already chiming in with the holy trinity of complaints: I’m tired, I’m hot and I’m hungry. 

 

We walked down the road which had an open sewer running next to it and was lined with decaying old colonial buildings which had a cool French Quarter of New Orleans vibe.  At this point the map stopped being of much help other telling us that the Taj was south of this street and near the Zoo.  We turned off at the street that seemed to be correct and the neighborhood went downhill pretty quickly.  The street was dark and abandoned but we continued on.  We walked for a while and while Lisa and I retained our confidence but the kids were starting to lose their patience.  We turned down a populated street to get confirmation about our path and were lucky enough to run into a woman who not only gave us directions but volunteered that her husband, Mr. Jacob, worked at the Taj.  She told us that we were proceeding in the right direction and that we should take a right up a little further.  Despite the children’s pleas, we decided to keep walking.  The side of the street now housed a shanty-town and the only light came from the passing cars.  We walked past the “Women’s Correctional Facility” before the kids staged their final rebellion and we swore that if the hotel wasn’t at the upcoming intersection then we would grab a cab.  When we got to the corner, we saw the entrance to the Zoo and realized that victory was near.  We saw the hotel, walked through security and up the driveway into the cool, marble lined lobby. 

 

About a minute after arriving, we were met by Joby Jacobs, the charming husband of the woman who gave us directions.  He was nice enough to show us around the hotel while Nora told him her life’s story, including the fact that she had turned eight that day.  He settled us into the pool lounge where we enjoyed a cold drink and the cool, quiet air.  We then had a delicious dinner at the North Indian/Bengali restaurant where they surprised us with a birthday cake for Nora.  So Lisa and I looked at each other and said “I love the Taj”.

Random Observations

Oh The People We’ll Meet

The kids have been in social withdrawal since we’ve arrived in India as there haven’t been any children in the hotels where we have stayed.  Luckily our beach resort is stocked full of kids for Nicholas and Nora to play with.  So they have been able to meet Indian children from such exotic locations as Summit, New Jersey; San Francisco, California and Portland, Oregon. 

 

The Official Language of India

Contrary to popular belief the official language isn’t Hindi or even one of the twelve or so other languages commonly spoken.  The official language of India by all appearances is what Nicholas calls Hinglish which is a mix of Hindi and English where sentences are made up of both Hindu and English phrases ie   xxxxxx  xxxxx I told her xxxxxx xxxxx   and then she xxxx xxxx xxxx.  (Obviously the Xs represent Hindi word).  We’ve heard Hinglish spoken on the TV, in the airport and while walking around town.  I have no idea how a Hinglish speaker chooses which phrases should be in English and which should be in Hindi or whether the same sentence repeated twice would be composed the same way each time but its clear to me that Hinglish is the predominant language spoken in India. 

 

Cows walking in the streets. 

Much like the fact that everyone knows that Jews don’t eat pork, the treatment of cows in India is famous.  But I wasn’t expecting the ubiquity of cows walking through the street.  I haven’t been on a single road or highway that doesn’t have traffic being diverted around a cow.  I have even seen a calf sleeping in the middle of a busy road.  Even in the poshest neighborhoods, cows wander around unimpeded. 

 

Indian’s fascination with my children.

Wherever we go, Indians are fascinated by my blond children.  Even in a big city like Delhi, people fee comfortable asking Nick & Nora for photos and it isn’t uncommon for a woman to pinch Nora’s cheeks.  The kids have taken to ignoring everyone around them so that they aren’t constantly distracted.  One would think that having grown up in New York they would already have the ability turn on their tunnel vision but it really has taken this trip for them to develop this defense mechanism.

 

Education in India

While we have seen plenty of street children along side the roadways, I’ve been terribly impressed with the focus on education here.  One out of four signs is advertising some school from nursery schools through graduate degrees.  Even in a town that we happened upon in Rajastan where the residents were literally living in mud huts, there was a school for the local children.  Walking though a larger town, you will see innumerable kids in school uniforms reminiscent of British schools.   English is widely spoken and there is the clear belief that education is the best route to upward mobility.  

Where in The Word Are We

At the impossibly beautiful beach resort in Goa.  Here is the view for the patio in front of our villa.

Nora's Birthday

Tomorrow, December 4th, is Nora's birthday. I know she would love a birthday greeting which can be emailed to her via david@timmelmarkus.com

Quote of the Day

Nora “When I get home, I am doing EVERYTHING AMERICAN .... Like go out for Chinese food.”

Tracking the Wild Tigers of Corbett

Our wake-up call or rather I should say wake up knock came at 4:30 am and we headed out in the cold morning air to get our permit. This being India, once we got to the ranger station, it turns out that they didn’t open until 6:15 am. So we sat around for an hour and complained of boredom and the cold. Once we got our permit, we drove for 30 minutes to get to the right gate which certainly was a bracing trip in an open-air jeep.

There are a range of animals in the park including three types of deer, monkeys, elephants and innumerable birds. However the primary goal is to see a tiger. The guides love to show off pictures and videos of tigers walking along the roads and there was plenty of evidence that tigers were around. We saw fresh tiger tracks in the dirt and trees where tigers had scratched the bark in order to mark their territory. Early on we heard the barking deer sound their warning call but no one in the dozen or so jeeps that were waiting around was able to see anything. So we drove around spotting monkeys playing around in the trees and other wildlife but nothing resembling a tiger.

Mid-morning we stopped for some eggs and cookies as a makeshift breakfast. By that point most of the jeeps had finished their safari and we continued on. We saw elephant prints and fresh elephant poop but apparently wild elephants are surprisingly stealthy. I’m not sure how a fifteen foot tall, two ton animal can be so sneaky but they are. Our driver took us off-piste and we climbed up a rusty, shaky observation tower. We saw a jackal but not much else. Then as we drove on we ran across another jeep that had stopped. They had heard a deer’s warning cry and we could hear the monkeys in the nearby trees screeching. A big male sambar deer came bounding out of the forest and three females followed him shortly thereafter. Then we heard the tiger strike. The deer gave a blood curdling cry, birds flew out of the trees, the monkeys screamed even louder and we heard the tiger’s deep roar. It was like something out of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. Only the tiger remained safely hiding in the forest. We sat around for about half an hour waiting for a tiger to amble out of the forest but to no avail.

We drove back and forth to a nearby creek hoping that the tiger would go down for an after-meal drink but he was clearly smarter than that. When we drove back, we saw that the other jeep had driven off the road to within 10 feet of the edge of the forest. So we bounced along the grasslands until we were next to them. Then there was a flurry of activity as our guide saw the tiger deep in the trees. Lisa and Nora were able to catch a glimpse but I didn’t see anything. We continued to wait but the tiger had moved on and there was nothing to see. Oh well, I had a great time and enjoyed the scenery so I couldn’t get hung up on my lack of a tiger sighting.

Later that afternoon we were headed out for an elephant ride through the forest by our hotel. With the four of us and his driver on his back, the elephant walked up the road for fifteen minutes before turning into a break in the woods The forest was beautiful in the late afternoon sun and we saw some deer and monkeys. Then as we were heading up a creek bed, we heard the warning bark of the deer and our elephant driver quickly turned the elephant around. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was doing but I quickly realized that he was heading toward the tiger and not away from it. The elephant continued through the underbrush and we heard the tiger’s roar filling the air. I quickly turned to the hill where it came from and there not half a mile from my hotel room, I saw the tiger stealthily creeping through the underbrush. So while it only lasted a second or so, I did get my glimpse of a wild tiger. We continued to try to track him but didn’t see or hear any evidence of the tiger. Once the sun started to set and we lost of daylight, we turned around and headed home, tired, happy to have seen a tiger and not thinking about the fact that the tiger was prowling not very far from where we were staying.

Where We Are Now

Up in the mountain town of Darjeeling for a few days before we start our southern half of the vacation.

For those of you following our itinerary, we've elected to skip going to Mumbai and instead are having a relaxing stay at a posh hotel on the beach of Goa. But read Lisa's post for a more detailed and articulate explanation

Tourism in the age of terrorism

I don’t suppose I should admit this, but I was aware that terrorist attacks in India were becoming more frequent. I read about the September 13th bombings in Delhi and, realizing at least one of the bombsites was about 10 km from our hotel, I quickly recycled the newspaper so that David wouldn’t see it. The tickets were bought; there was no sense in worrying about it. So, I wasn’t surprised to hear that Mumbai had been attacked. However, I was unprepared for the apparent change in tactics. You can rationalize away a bomb in a market pretty easily, after all it’s a big city and—no lie—many of these bombs are attached to bikes. And, heck, we’d just been in Israel, where a market we visited was attacked a week later. But a small bomb at a discreet place is a world away from young men driving around shooting people indiscriminately; a hostage situation is a different order of magnitude. An adjustment is in order.

But how do we integrate this into our experience here? We’re due in Mumbai in six days. Should we skip it? By the time we get there a week from now, things will be on their way to being cleaned up. Security will be tighter or at least showier in the classic horse/barn door way that governments (including our own) have of reacting to these kinds of situations. As a New Yorker, I remember the sense of abandonment after 9/11 and I want to stand in solidarity with the people of Mumbai, but I also remember the deep shock and mourning and how much I resented tourists braying about their visit to ground zero on the subway. Historically, right after an attack is the safest time to go anywhere but would it be too ghoulish to attempt to have fun? What right do I have to put my children in the middle of Pakistan’s war by proxy on India, any more than I already have? Will we end up sitting around our hotel room being too afraid or depressed to go out?

Meanwhile, our Indian travel agent and our guide are insisting that this happens all the time in India and that there’s nothing to be concerned about. This is a combination of protecting their profit margin and genuine cross-cultural miscommunication. The Indians we’ve spoken to in Delhi have all shrugged it off with the exception of the concierge here at The Imperial. The Imperial, of course, is an Oberoi hotel largely patronized by westerners. They began searching all the cars before entering the driveway and installed a metal detector over the weekend. The truth is that this attack is not like all the others, and our agent’s attitude is going over very badly with David. (Now, watching people talk down to the usually very affable David Markus is one of my favorite spectator sports because they have no idea how swiftly and forcefully they are going to get their asses handed to them.) This makes us a little bit inclined to change plans just because when someone flat out lies to you, it’s hard to trust their assessment of the situation.

So after three days of agonizing we’re blowing off Mumbai and going to the beach in Goa. The cities are hard on the kids without the added tension of going on the heels of a major attack. I’m sad to miss it and I feel a little bit like a coward. I was looking forward to the restaurants, the shopping and the urban vibe. But in the end, it’s really hard to ignore the advice of your embassy and the metal detector marring the entrance to one of the most beautiful hotels you’ve ever stayed in.