I do believe that describes my condition at the moment. Post-travel Stress Disorder. Stir-fried, freeze-dried, zombiefied, my brain has died. My ears have not stopped ringing, neither with echoes of jet engines, or the testy tones of some of my conversations today. It was so *quiet* in the hotel elevator that the porter's shoe creaking startled me.
I fell asleep on the hotel bed while Carl took a shower--I couldn't have been out more than a few minutes but it was a total blackout. When I came to, I told Carl I couldn't feel my body.
The hotel is really pretty--Carl will post pics soon. And our room is nice: heavy, rather formal furniture, very hard beds (neither of them doubles), decent lighting, and a stopper in the bathroom sink we couldn't figure out how to operate. After a fruitless call to Housekeeping (I'm embarrassed to say that my attempts to communicate with Chinese folks have been pretty, well, embarrassing), I finally went down to the front desk to ask. Fortunately both our tour guides were still there and Roberta explained that you need to push down on the stopper to get it popped up. Good thing I asked; I was on the verge of breaking a nail file prying the sucker up.
Yes, we promise to stop bitching just as soon as we get some rest.
1 comment:
39 hours in transit. Y'all are gonna need to check into a sleep clinic when you get back (one that has a resident chiropracter, of course).
I read ahead to the duck post and it sounds like the visit is getting off to a good start in spite of that grueling trip. I guess every culture has its version of the burrito or taco. Sounds very delish.
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