Sitting above the square, you are immersed in historic old town with St. Peter’s church out the kitchen window, and all the night action below you. From your room, you are bathed in the bells from the House of the Blackheads just beyond, and serenaded at night with haunting cello wafting from some mystery corner you hadn’t yet identified in this outsized cobblestoned maze of surprises. Is it from the cafes below, or perhaps a street musician bringing on the morning light.
Rain patters softly and thunder in the distance, a summer squall. Time is twisted and double backed upon. I’m in 1200 now 2020. What was that I just saw? It was built when? And with so much to discover in this onion of a city, there’s no place I’d rather have stayed.
Oh yes, and I’m glad I invested in noise cancelling headphones and an eye cover to bring with me from home. The sun and the revelers rarely sleep. But I like to, nonetheless. The fresher to begin the next day of rambling round this trove of treasures.
And Kristina was a hardworking, warm host who was there if I needed her. And the various other roommates offered a kaleidoscope of young travelers and students, who I occasionally saw or interacted with. Safe, central, and private. Grateful. Thanks Kristina!