I Think I've Died and Gone to Heaven

Who knew that heaven would look just like the Hotel Killa in Cafayate, Argentina?  I just learned that when I arrived.  Oh, my, I think this may be exactly what I needed to get out of my funk and back into the travel groove again.

This won't be long since, well, I'm in heaven and I have better things to do.  Like have a glass of torrontes.  Or have a long, hot bath, something I haven't been able to do in almost three months.  Or maybe both of those things together.  At this rate, I'm probably not actually going to remember to have dinner tonight because I'll be too busy luxuriating in my big bed and my very own room, with my very own bathroom and bathtub and my very own safe to lock up all my valuables (so I don't have to walk around with everything strapped to me as I usually do).  And I can sleep naked tonight if I want. 

Any minute now I'm going to start singing.  "All I want is a room somewhere ..."  ... Eliza had the right idea.  Sometimes it's all about having your own space.

View from my balcony

Here's my quickie shot off my balcony -- note that there is even a pool!  If it's as warm tomorrow as it was today, it could even be swimming weather; today could've been a perfect late May summer day in Toronto.  It didn't feel at all like autumn.

You might think this is not much, for heaven.  Maybe you take all of those things for granted and think that heaven should offer something much grander.  Well, this hotel is nicer than my apartment (and probably your house too), and you've got to remember the perspective I'm coming from:  I usually sleep in a dorm with at least 5 other people (some of them 20-something boys, which is why I don't sleep naked), cook in a communal kitchen when I can get a turn at the stove and hang out in a common room with 20 of my new closest friends that I just met that morning.  The idea of an entire little world just for me is luxury, indeed.  I found the local vinoteca already, so I am prepared to spend as long as I choose in my room with ample supplies of wine to hand.

Actually, I think maybe all I needed was my own room for a little bit (but Hotel Killa is providing me with a lot more than that!).  I can be sociable and I like a good party, but I have a high need for solitude and "alone" time ... one of the characteristics of an introvert, I suppose.  It's hard to find this necessary solitude when you're staying in hostels most of the time -- while it's great to have all those other people around to talk to and have a beer with, or hook up for a day trip the next day, sometimes you just want them all to GO AWAY.  At least you do if you're an introvert, and particularly if you're one with hermit-like tendencies on occasion (like me, dear reader).

The town of Cafayate is very cute, too, and the bus ride from Salta was spectacular.  I spent an hour or so walking around town this evening, which means I probably saw the whole town since it's also very small.  But it's delightful, and it's a candidate to be added to my "where I could live" list (I'll keep you posted if it makes the cut, upon closer inspection).  I think I could happily spend a week here, although if I do, I'll have to move back to hostel living for some of that time or else I'll really be denting my budget.  A night here at Hotel Killa is about the same at a week at a hostel in Argentina -- not expensive by North American standards, considering the quality of what they're offering, but too much for a long-term stay if you hope to stretch your travel funds for a year!

Ahhhh ... I think that bath might be calling my name.  Along with that glass of torrontes.  I'll catch you later.

P.S.  And while I'm at it, here's an FYI, since it's a particular pet peeve of mine -- "introvert" DOES NOT equal quiet or shy.  It simply refers to where you get your energy from -- introverts recharge by being alone and spending time "in their heads" -- being "inward-directed" -- while extroverts feed on being around other people, being "outward-directed".  There are fewer true introverts around, so the majority extravert population tends to think we're a bit weird -- but please, please, PLEASE don't ever ask your introvert friend "Why are you so quiet?".   I used to get that a lot as a kid (I was extremely shy and quiet -- by comparison now I'm a regular social butterfly), and it always made me feel like a weird freak of nature; like being "quiet" was a character defect or abnormality.  (I would never say to a talkative person, "So how come you never shut up?" so please extend us introverts the reciprocal courtesy!).