GGuest UserThe wind chime jingled as I pushed open the door.
The front desk attendant looked up, smiled, and said, ”You're here.” It was as if she knew I was coming and had been waiting for me for a long time.
Soft music played in the lobby. Someone was reading by the window, another person was napping with the sunlight warming their back.
**Cleanliness:** The bedsheets smelled of laundry detergent, not that stuffy disinfectant smell. The corners were swept impeccably clean, and there were no water stains in the bathroom. I'm a bit of a clean freak, but I slept soundly here. When I came back at night, the auntie had already mopped the common areas again, the floor still slightly glistening.
**Location:** It's in Liuxing Street, so Apple Alley is just a short walk away. To the left, there's Grandpa's baked buns, to the right, Grandma's ice cream, and across the street, Uncle's拌面 (mixed noodles) – all just a few steps away. In the evening, I took a stroll to the Alexander Accordion Museum, and on the way back, I bought two freshly baked, still-warm breads from the bakery. If I wanted coffee, it was convenient too, just around the corner.
**Service:** The front desk attendant poured me a hot tea and said, ”Take a rest first.” Knowing I was traveling alone, she even asked if I wanted to join them for a trip to the surroundings tomorrow. In the evening, a few guys were sharing a meal in the courtyard and invited me to eat with them, without even asking if I'd pay. This kind of natural warmth really touched my heart.
**Facilities:** The bed was large, and with the curtain pulled, it became my own little world. Each bed had an outlet and a lamp, so no fighting over them. The hot water was plentiful and had good pressure. The restaurant had a microwave and a water dispenser, so hot water was always available – so important for our Chinese stomachs! As for the atmosphere, everyone sat in the courtyard in the evening. Someone played the guitar, someone drank Wusu beer, and someone who had just returned from Mount Kailash shared stories of the snow and stars on the mountain. I just listened nearby, feeling that this was probably the meaning of travel – meeting people, hearing stories, and then continuing on your own path.
As I left, the wind chime jingled again. The front desk attendant was busy, but still looked up and said, ”Travel safely.” As if she knew I'd be back.
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