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by Jose Kevo
Middle-of-Nowhere, Missouri
November 14, 2004
There are two floors of basic rooms, offering what proved to be a comfortable and convenient stay. Rooms had a pair of single beds, with a large armoire and dresser. There were local stations on the antique television, and air-conditioning was weak enough to make for comfortable sleeping each night. The private bath was doable, if you don't mind open showers, where a basic curtain is all that keeps the entire room from getting soaked. Remember to set toilet paper outside first.
A small balcony overlooking the front half of the hotel and across into the Plaza was outside my door at hall's end. Desk clerks are always on duty to collect keys before going out. There are phones in the entryway, and not only does Astor sell phone cards, but they'll also help dial confusing access codes. With all of this for $7.50 a night, why splurge for the top-dollar joint at $30?
The hotel restaurant opens at 4pm, serving dinner each night with daily specials and an in-depth menu. Local favorites are enhanced with an old-world European flair. Owners are a pair of Italian immigrants with decades worth of assimilation, yet not much appears to have changed in either ambiance or expectation.
Nothing was priced over $5, but it was mostly served a la carte. Traditional Creole stewed beef with salad, a large bowl of chicken soup, and a bottomless basket of Italian garlic bread, washed down with a couple of Cokes, ran only $4.30. Pollo de Chicharrones -- chunks of chicken fried with lime and oregano served with salad and a vegetable -- was more than enough for $2.55, but budget travelers can do even better by selecting single meat plates with salad and arepas for $1.50.
A dust-covered piano might have accompanied sing-alongs if it weren't for the table just off the kitchen, surrounded by cronies deciphering heated chess games. Customers weren't neglected, but expect to find more attentiveness when the wife is present. Actually, it was like having a front-row seat at some classic dinner theatre, but the real time warp awaits you separately, across the corridor.
Stepping into the Hotel Bar was like taking a walk-on role for a Twilight Zone episode. Everything from rows of faded Martini & Rossi bottles to decor so out, it's in, had an ill-kept, museum-like quality. The only bartender certainly had zombie-like qualities; the entire place was seasoned with forgotten nostalgia and stale smoke, even with no one present.
With or without blinds drawn, there's still a mysterious, dark quality. Beers were more expensive at 40 cents, but most satisfying were tall glasses of rum, splashed with coke and garnished with lime and bitters, for $1. Powerful air-conditioning kept a captive chill in the air -- enough to lose track, warped in time, space, and intoxication.
From journal Magic Amid the Multitudes in Maracaibo