once upon a propitious journey to the llovely llowland where the northern skies glowed a frigid blue, the mildly exhausted wanderer floated through the window of an enchanted hotel and down a long rabbithole hallway...
in search of the longed for bed, or perhaps even the very very long long bed that she had once heard about...
she slid down the cliched magical staircase from the ancient time of the tiny travelers...
only to find a much too small bed caged within a cage - and unmade to boot...
rounding the corner, an ethereal lacy bubble rolled her down the most pristine ramp...
to an even smaller bed, where she was sure something was still sleeping in it!
finding her way to one of the many institutionally tiled stairways, yet still possessing of such transportive powers, she descended upon another level...
to another endless corridor of closed secretive doors with mysterious numbers and symbols, but one was left quite seductively ajar...
the haphazard wanderer crept in, only to find a pile of giant books of convenience to elevate her
to a short flight of steps leading to two unassuming armchair thrones, again for those little voyagers of olden times, but still no bed for her size [where is goldilocks when you need her most??]
unfazed, she returned to the bookroom and found the great book of architectural dilemmas to consult...
and it revealed to her the way to the hidden, except for a sign indicating in bright dutch orange letters, lobby of the voracious cultural embassy...
where an impeccably dressed cultural bass presumed that she was another anticipated royalty with a penchant for multi-storey mattresses [the previous one found the pea and had a royal fit, nosebleeding all over the virgin snowrug!]
quickly escaping the apologetic bass and the still to be cleaned up mess, the tiring wanderer bounced onto the pile of mattresses and hid amongst the nonsensical textual leaves drooping from above...
eventually finding an objectively unobtrusive opening to crawl through ...
and emerging into a sunlit room where the fabled unicorn of yore lounged sleepily on a red-striped chaise, feeling a little over-stuffed from a lloyd-vintage lunch...
he looked up, a little surprise to find a timid intruder, but kindly pointed the way [with his horn, of course!] to an illusive miniature building perched on a precarious shelf of enlightening books...
within this deceptively undersized lodge were several trickster stools that were not what they appeared to be, obviously!
meaning they looked soft and wobbly, but they were really hard as nails, maybe more like concrete...
this dubious but artful piece of furniture shifted her perspective above to a vast conundrum where she had to cross the suspended petit pont d'amour, being careful not to fall into the yellow river of floating seasonal squash...
and then finally, finally, the much weary wanderer located the precise door to the charmed chamber with just the right size bed - still unmade, damn it!
to while away the time, she reached for the great book of soporific music by casper howeler [really??]
and settled into the most visceral chair she could find [the viscera-like padding was a dead giveaway!], and promptly fell into a deep sleep, dreaming only of nijntje/miffy the dutch rabbit hopping madly round and round the canals of amsterdam...
I had the pleasure of a recent stay at this wonderfully eccentric hotel that was once a more serious hotel for even more exhausted emigrants on their journeys to South America, and later also a seriously sad jail for juveniles, and then wildly creative artists occupied it for a while before its latest manifestation as an artsy hotel with an uber-cool cultural embassy programming art and design events in situ.
[If it is haunted, I must admit that I was wondering as I drifted off to sleep...and instead dreamt of a chubby well-fed unicorn trotting through the multi-spatial dimensions of the lloyd llullaby universe...]
