The place was simply telling the truth about its age

I didn’t come here expecting to be impressed.

I chose the smallest room, the cheapest one, the part of the building no one advertises. The manager tried to soften it—no view, servants’ quarters—as if I might need protecting from the idea of it. But the truth is, that made it more interesting, not less.

The castle is old enough that it doesn’t pretend to be level. The floor tilts in competing directions, like time itself had shifted while the building stayed put. At first I wondered if I was dizzy, if something was off in me. Then I realized it wasn’t me at all. The place was simply telling the truth about its age.

I didn’t feel disappointed. Disappointment needs expectation, and I hadn’t brought any. I had brought curiosity, and that was met generously.

There’s no hot water for a shower, but I didn’t need one. I wanted my own bathroom, and I had it. I wanted to wash my face, to reset, and the kettle solved that easily. A towel at the base of the door stopped the cold air rushing in from the hall. Each small adjustment reminded me that comfort doesn’t come from perfection—it comes from responding to what’s actually there.

What struck me most was how little I needed. Not less in a deprived way, but less in a clarified way. The uneven floor didn’t frustrate me; it oriented me. The draft didn’t annoy me; it gave me something to solve. The lack of polish didn’t feel like absence—it felt like honesty.

I wasn’t here to be hosted. I was here to observe.

In another time, I might have read meaning into the room—status, symbolism, whether I deserved better. Tonight, none of that mattered. I wasn’t performing presence. I was simply present.

The castle didn’t offer comfort as spectacle. It offered information. And that was exactly what I wanted.

I can feel how this experience is refining my plans—not narrowing them, but sharpening them. I know more clearly now what steadiness feels like in my body, what kind of imperfections I can live with, and which ones quietly ask too much.

This stay didn’t persuade me of anything. It didn’t seduce me. It didn’t disappoint me.

It just told me the truth.

And I listened.