New directions

The ceiling was so slanted, I couldn’t sit up in bed without hitting my head. A cramped room with scratchy towels, and stuffy air, without central air. The pool had caution tape wrapped around the entry stairs where chunks of cement were missing. The city center, that was home to this hotel, was dead in the off season. More than half the stores were closed and the promised nightlife was non-existent. I wasn’t expecting luxury, but I also wasn’t expecting this.

Can you walk into a restaurant and turn around and leave instantly, knowing you don't want to eat there? Or do you fear you’ll offend the staff?

I probably feared offending the staff at some point in my life, but luckily I shed that kind of guilt somewhere along the way. Is there some kind of rule that if you walk into a restaurant, hotel, or apartment, that you must automatically commit? How about if you sign on for a job and realize it’s definitely not the job for you?

So there I am, in this dilapidated hotel. Granted, I didn’t do much research before booking (see my post about my last minute trip to St. Croix). After staying for 1 night, I knew I had to go. The hotel wasn't what I imagined, it wasn't in the right location and it wasn't the type of place I was looking for. It was hard to ask for a refund on the reminaing nights and walk out the door, but in doing so, I ended up at a place that exceeded every expectation I had for that trip.

Sunset from the new hotel I ended up at, after asking for a refund

I realized that it is better to have brief moments of discomfort, for long-term happiness. Even though it's hard to have a change of heart, stopping the pursuit of one path and going in a completely new direction opens opportunities for a better meal, or a week, or a better life.