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andrew willow 2022-09-19 22:56:23 -05:00
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conference_connections.md
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@ -12,7 +12,17 @@ Her work packed up, she stood and walked out onto the platform they'd pulled up
"You must go to Lushington beach! It is no quick trip but, you will not regret it. No one goes there this time of year. Except now, you! Beautiful for sunrises. Mix plenty of drinks for yourself the night before, and you will be happy all day. Just you and the sand and the waves!" He gesticulated with excitement towards the sky. "Usually, we have tropical storms around now. But you slipped right between them. In a week, it will be grey skies, everyday. But this week only is perfect."
Customs flew by and before long Natalie was waiting for an Uber to the resort with her luggage. The conference had fully booked one of the largest resorts on the island, a luxurious villa that abutted the ocean on the outskirts of the capitol.
Customs flew by and before long Natalie was climbing into an Uber to the resort with her luggage. The conference had fully booked one of the largest resorts on the island, a luxurious five-star establishment styled like a gigantic Italian villa abutting the ocean on the outskirts of the capitol. [The photos their website promoted made it look incredibly Instagram-able, with beautiful marble floors and a turquoise-green bathing pool. Even the smallest rooms had looked palatial to her eyes.][c1]
[c1]: <> "This might not be needed now that there's more detail above."
As her ride pulled up to the villa and parked next to an out-of-place looking filthy red Honda moped, she stepped out with her luggage and took the place in. Frankly, it was even grander than the photos had made it out to be. A red-clay tiled roof shrouded a massive main domed building in which the conference's talks and sessions would be held, with two wings that spread out, curving gently towards the sea to encircle the inner courtyard she'd seen in the digital brochures. It felt more like the kind of architecture an oil baron might have commissioned for a museum in some bygone era than a place someone would be allowed to sleep in.
The illusion only deepened as she stepped through the doors into a dim, surprisingly cramped entryway with a small desk where she stood in line to check in. It felt like a vestibule from a fine old building, complete with tarnished brass details. As she passed through the doors into the main hall, it was nearly enough to take her breath away. The floors were a polished black stone inlaid with a swirling design, and at the apex of the domed space hung a crystal chandileir that bathed the room in a warm glow. It was magical, and even with black-clothed hotel attendants flitting around, setting up the chairs auditorium-style for her talk, the room had an ambiance like no other.
She'd expected that since the organizers had paid for her room and ticket, she'd be relegated to one of the less fashionable ends of the complex. Instead, it seemed that the unexpected largesse had extended to every corner of her stay. The room she entered
, glinting off her glasses frames, and she felt its glowing gaze on her freckled shoulders as she marched with intention down the ramp in her sneakers.