There's something about a room with a view, isn't there? Being able to step out onto a balcony, patio or veranda, however tiny or grand, and gaze out at a bustling street scene, a pretty piazza, a shimmering ocean, sparkling bay, or a still glassy lake. Watery views are my most coveted. I'll select one hotel over another simply for its sea vistas. I've visited Positano a couple of times and while the much-written-about hotel is Le Sirenuse, both times I've chosen Covo dei Saraceni because it's just that much closer to the water. It's beside the beach, next to the port, and when you walk out onto your balcony you look right onto the sea and the action on the sand. Plus there are magical views back up to the pastel-painted town that sprawls across the mountain. The closer I am to the water, the happier I am. I want to wake up to sunrises over the sea, hear boats bobbing on the water, feel the warmth of the sun on my feet as I drink a cup of tea in the morning, have to close the curtains a little to shut out the searing light from the sun during siesta, watch that big ball of fire sink into the sea, enjoy balmy evening breezes on my cheeks, and be able to count the stars before I go to bed. The first time we visited Venice, we stayed at a pension with two tiny balconies that looked onto a canal. In the early evening my husband and I would each take one and with a glass of wine would watch the gondoliers go by, singing and waving up to us, and we'd wave across to each other. A few summers later we were hunting for an apartment to rent in Venice and my main criteria was two identical balconies with canal views. I found an elegant little antique-filled studio in an old palazzo and I was pleased to find my balconies. We continued our evening ritual there and it was equally as wonderful as it was the first time. When we were younger and we backpacked around Mexico and Europe, we would stay at budget places in old towns and the prerequisite was always a window or balcony that overlooked the main street or square so we could wake up to the sounds of locals chatting on their way to work in the morning and in the evenings we could sit with a glass of wine in hand watching the action down below. Which in small towns in Mexico, Spain, Portugal, and Italy was always the evening passeo or passagiatta on the piazza, the slow social walk around the square, and in bigger cities like Barcelona, Madrid and Rome, invariably involved drinking. I have stayed in so many hotel rooms in cities now that I finally realize that a room at the front that opens onto a street will inevitably mean a sleepless night, but if I'm by the sea it's unquestionably a room with a view for me.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
A Room with a View
There's something about a room with a view, isn't there? Being able to step out onto a balcony, patio or veranda, however tiny or grand, and gaze out at a bustling street scene, a pretty piazza, a shimmering ocean, sparkling bay, or a still glassy lake. Watery views are my most coveted. I'll select one hotel over another simply for its sea vistas. I've visited Positano a couple of times and while the much-written-about hotel is Le Sirenuse, both times I've chosen Covo dei Saraceni because it's just that much closer to the water. It's beside the beach, next to the port, and when you walk out onto your balcony you look right onto the sea and the action on the sand. Plus there are magical views back up to the pastel-painted town that sprawls across the mountain. The closer I am to the water, the happier I am. I want to wake up to sunrises over the sea, hear boats bobbing on the water, feel the warmth of the sun on my feet as I drink a cup of tea in the morning, have to close the curtains a little to shut out the searing light from the sun during siesta, watch that big ball of fire sink into the sea, enjoy balmy evening breezes on my cheeks, and be able to count the stars before I go to bed. The first time we visited Venice, we stayed at a pension with two tiny balconies that looked onto a canal. In the early evening my husband and I would each take one and with a glass of wine would watch the gondoliers go by, singing and waving up to us, and we'd wave across to each other. A few summers later we were hunting for an apartment to rent in Venice and my main criteria was two identical balconies with canal views. I found an elegant little antique-filled studio in an old palazzo and I was pleased to find my balconies. We continued our evening ritual there and it was equally as wonderful as it was the first time. When we were younger and we backpacked around Mexico and Europe, we would stay at budget places in old towns and the prerequisite was always a window or balcony that overlooked the main street or square so we could wake up to the sounds of locals chatting on their way to work in the morning and in the evenings we could sit with a glass of wine in hand watching the action down below. Which in small towns in Mexico, Spain, Portugal, and Italy was always the evening passeo or passagiatta on the piazza, the slow social walk around the square, and in bigger cities like Barcelona, Madrid and Rome, invariably involved drinking. I have stayed in so many hotel rooms in cities now that I finally realize that a room at the front that opens onto a street will inevitably mean a sleepless night, but if I'm by the sea it's unquestionably a room with a view for me.