Our stay at the Jakarta Hotel in Amsterdam began beneath a veil of rain and ended in a dream from…read morewhich I was almost reluctant to awaken.
The hotel rests in a secluded corner beside the river, removed from the city's restless clamor. Yet when night descends, the view becomes something altogether extraordinary. The dark water reflects the scattered lights of Amsterdam, each one trembling upon the surface like a distant and dying star. Should you stay here, I implore you--secure a room with a balcony facing the river. It is a sight worth surrendering sleep to behold.
Our room was spacious, immaculate, and possessed of a magnificent bathtub, large enough to drown one's worldly troubles--or, in darker circumstances, one's enemies. The bed was exceedingly comfortable, though perhaps too comfortable, for once I entered its silken grasp, I feared I might never rise again.
The staff were wonderfully kind and attentive, appearing whenever summoned and vanishing with the quiet efficiency of benevolent spirits. The pool was magnificent, and the spa and sauna offered a welcome escape from the world beyond. One warning, however: the sauna requires guests to be nude. I had not anticipated such a gathering of strangers in their natural state, and for a brief moment, I wondered whether I had entered a spa--or a very polite cult.
The breakfast buffet each morning was nothing short of essential. The variety was excellent, and I returned to it with such dedication that the staff may have suspected I had taken up permanent residence beside the pastries.
When evening came, the river darkened, the lights shimmered, and the hotel grew quiet. Sitting upon the balcony, I could almost imagine some pale figure moving beyond the glass, whispering softly from the water.
But it was only Amsterdam.
Or so I told myself.
