About noon yesterday, I was delighted to welcome three young people from Singapore into the B and B. For some reason, I had it in my mind that it was a husband, wife, and child, but instead they turned out to be three backpacking students. They are incredibly sweet, independent, and quiet.
The usual modus operandi when a guest arrives is to offer them tea or coffee, give them the lay of the land, and then set them loose to explore the city. These three were ready to explore the minute they dropped their loads on the bedroom floor and I gave them key orientation.
Later in the afternoon, two gorgeous young ladies from the US arrived for the other bedroom. They too were ready to rock and roll shortly after arriving.
By 7:00pm, I had the place to myself, a sinking spell coming on, I decided a short nap was in order. I had been up since 5:00am getting the last guests off to hovercrafts and the airport. My friend Michael called after his meeting, asking me to join he and one other for dinner. In my dreamlike state, I thought I heard Chinese coming from the other room, guessing the three adventurers returned while I was sequestered in my room.
When I left to join Michael there was silence throughout the apartment; I locked both locks on the door.
When I met up with Michael and his friend, I jokingly shared that I hoped my Singapore guests were indeed out on the town, but if not that they remembered how to unlock the door from the inside. Being Italian, formerly Catholic with DNA induced guilt, the worry started in. Did they realize they had keys to escape their confines? They are young, perhaps they thought it was curfew time and they were not allowed to leave after a certain hour. Guilt, shame, horror set in, but still at such mild doses that I thoroughly enjoyed my dinner at a new restaurant Cactus Juice. It was such a pleasant experience, I will include it in my new book. The occupational hazard of a travel writer, every incident becomes a review either mentally or eventually in written form.
After dinner as I walked Michael to the bus stop, the thoughts were running through my mind about my ‘guests’ feeling like prisoners on their Budapest stopover, while he expressed seeing the headline news “B and B Owner Hold Three Singapore Nationals Hostage”. As I was chuckling at this, I had feelings of being a NYC sweatshop owner. We joked about them using a battering ram to open the door, SWAT teams surrounding the building.
Walking into the apartment at 11:00pm, lights were out, even those left on as nightlights, the place was quiet as a Quaker Meeting and from the looks of things, they inflicted their own lights out curfew.
At breakfast everyone was happy and content, not a sign of surliness. Hey youthful people you are supposed to be having a nightlife while you are still young enough to enjoy it. They, however, were up at 6:00am; my clock was set for 7:45.