It is easy to be critical of someone else’s idea of decor, and when on holiday it is all but compulsory. Casa Zenia offered us so many ins that we happily snorted our way to bed on the first night, confirming our evidently superior taste while winding down from an unremarkable but still tiring day’s travel.
Our critique began long before we even arrived at the villa, since our first trial was to follow the infinitely detailed directions from the airport. These were clearly proudly penned by the non driver, since directions excluded how many roundabouts we should cross, but included the detail that one of them was “attractive”.
I believe we were doing a good job of keeping our spirits up at the point where keys were to be found on the “kitchen” window ledge, when there was no way of telling from outside which one of the many windows that might be – given that these were, in the Spanish style, not only barred but doubly shuttered, wood on the inside and metal on the outside. Still, entry was achieved, and I had had no part in any of it. Left to me we might very well have never left the airport. While Kate directed Lottie and they were bemoaning the useless directions my only offering was to ask whether, in general, it was a good thing that we were going north. Having gathered that this was in fact an acceptable direction I felt satisfied that nothing bad was happening and that I could probably more or less relax.
We were all tired from the day’s traveling so after negotiating a meal and tossing our clothes on the floor I think it was a sign of fortitude that we found the energy to criticise our host’s taste in hundred watt bulbs in bedside lighting.
We made some effort after that, but it became harder, in that it is tricky for travellers from a country that had been swaddled in grey for months to make much of an effort at sarcasm in the face of guaranteed sunshine.
I can, however, offer you one thing which is not just ‘old fashioned’ but in all ways wrong. The bathrooms have coloured suites. This is already something which can only be considered so wrong it is right in a very narrow ironic context, but in reality it’s just old fashioned. The enamel and plastic is around the colour spectrum that you might possibly call mushroom, but is really a bit more like a dirty butterscotch. That, then, is not the kicker. Reader, I give you brown tiling with occasional pictures of wheat. Clearly this tile is intended to give a bready theme to a kitchen. Finding them scattered along the wall in a bathroom in this very nicely presented villa is quite pleasingly hideous.
However, it is miracle enough that I have both composed and posted this on an ipad. You will have to await my return for photographic evidence.
Here are my photos including one of the wheat AND olive tile. YOU ARE WELCOME!