Sunday, December 4, 2011

Córdoba – What a difference a day makes

Despite arriving at my hotel at midnight, 12 hours later than planned, it’s Saturday night and I feel compelled to walk around. My initial impression of the area is not good. My hotel seems to be in a sketchy area: dark streets, young people heading to clubs; a guy shouting “puta” at me from a passing car.

I wake up early Sunday morning after just four hours of sleep, to the sounds of dogs barking and hotel guests slamming their doors. The walls are painted lime-green and void of any decoration. The room has a funky smell coming from the bathroom. I begin searching the internet for another hotel.

At breakfast, I observe the other guests for clues of the sketchy quality of the hotel. They seem like normal people. Still, I think it is best to try to talk my way out of the next three days of my reservation.

The woman at the reception desk whose name starts with an “M” – Maricella or something similar, speaks no English. But she is incredibly friendly, and with the help of Google Translate and my limited Spanish I learn she would be happy to change my reservation but that she can not because it was made through an online agency. I don’t fully understand. Sigh. But “M” is so sweet and so friendly, and by the end of our conversation I am resigned to staying at the hotel. "M" also has me laughing and considering excursions. Apparently Córdoba’s reputation for friendly people is well-deserved after all.

I head out for the day. It’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining, and well-dressed families are heading to church a block away. What a difference a day makes.



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