On the flight to Dublin, I had visions of dark but calming rooms with fireplaces. Uhhh. No. This room was yellow. Not a soft yellow, not a vanilla ice cream yellow, no, it was bright yellow. It was egg yoke yellow. It was Big Bird yellow. It was the kind of yellow that stood up and said, I AM YELLOW!!!!!! And it was all yellow.
Since a lot of Dublin is grey, I can understand to desire to paint with bright colors. If it makes people happy, then paint away. Paint away the onset of seasonal depression. Paint away the steel grey buildings. Paint away rain clouds and black umbrellas and puddles with no visible bottom. Good on ya.
However, if it was just about the paint, I would be able to stop there.
Above the bed with a yellow quilted bed spread was a thing, a strange thing attached to the ceiling with yellow chiffon draped all over it. I think the designer was going for a canopy effect. However, it looked like a very cheap coffee table turned upside down and attached to the ceiling.
Maybe the room designer got the idea from one of those home improvement shows on how to decorate with fifty cents. Maybe the designer had actually taken the advice seriously. Maybe the designer had only seen the episode once and skipped a few steps. Like how to make a canopy frame look less like a coffee table on the ceiling.
As I fell asleep that night, I could still see the shadows of the coffee table above my head. I wondered if it would fall on me while I slept. However, I was too jet lagged to care. It didn't fall by the way.
In addition to the typical bed, desk, chairs, television, the hotel room also had a tiny sauna. It was as big as a small wardrobe and could fit two people uncomfortably. Why there was a sauna in the room, I'm not sure. The hotel did advertise that there was a sauna in every room.
After a day of being out in chilly rainy Dublin, I could (a) go to the pub or (b) sit in a hot hot wooden box. Usually, it was option (a) for me. I did try the sauna at one point---just to say, I did try the sauna.
As for artwork, there was only one picture on the hotel room wall. It had the title, ‘American Field Sports'. It was a marsh scene with two bloodhounds in the foreground and a hunter shooting birds in the background. Under the title was the subtitle: A Chance for Both Barrels. How nice that I am reminded of the brutal cycle of life and death in sport hunting. It provides a dramatic contrast to the yellow wall.
The bathroom was actually quite nice and the same size as the room. It was all tiled white. Sure, some of the tiles shifted a bit, but it had clean towels and a decent shower. After waking up, making sure the coffee table was still on the ceiling, and being blinded by the white tiles, it was nice to stand under hot running water and dump a little bottle of shampoo in my hair. It's the little things that make it fun.
Besides, the point is to spend as little time at the hotel as possible. There was a whole city outside. As I walked out past the parking lot, I heard a sweet high-pitched chorus of meows. It was a family of new born kitties and a mama kitty that you didn't mess around with.
One of the kitties, a light brown one with clear blue eyes, looked right at me.
"Hello little kitty." I said in my baby talk voice.
"Welcome to Dublin, Jen." The kitty said before scampering up a tree.
Had that little kitty just spoken to me or had I just imagined it? I would never know. As I walked off into the misty morning light, I hoped to meet the kitty again someday and maybe ask if it knew any good restaurants.