Where the aged orange tree grew against a stone wall in the garden, I saw a guest room. And when the tree was sacrificed to make space for the construction, the name of the orange tree remained -- “La Kajera”.
The most eccentric guest room, after three decades of delighting guests, has now become “my room”, a nook of recycled stones doors and windows and furniture from other times. The entrance to the room could not be more problematic because of the stair width and uncomfortable angle of accent. They will have problems getting my body out of this room, when that time comes.
The bi-level room can be reached from above, or from below, from the colonial well garden. A simple piece of carryon luggage needs two people to navigate it into the room.
There’s large bath, two steps lower than the main room, and here, I’ve put my single bed by the window with a view of the greenness below.
Yes, I sleep in the bathroom ! And I have a porch covered with curved terra cotta Spanish roof tiles, with a mezzanine seat for observing the early morning parrots in the avocado tree.
It’s a fairy tale room. Just getting there is an adventure. And getting out -- at night -- is like getting lost in the first act of Rigoletto, after the stage hands have left.