It has been my long time belief that living near a historic landmark or large commercial attraction for a prolonged period of time eventually induces a sort of trivial relationship between you and said landmark/attraction. The kind of thing that, when asked by visitors, you’ll casually respond to as, “oh, that?”
In walking throughout the streets of Casco Viejo every day and admiring its splendor almost to a fault, I felt myself start to lose some of that novelty. Some of that matchlessness that drew me here in the first place.
I think it’s fair to say it happens with a lot of people who live or work in the Casco. Whether subconscious or not, there becomes a tendency for the neighborhood’s quaint cobblestone streets or intricate architecture to lose that rustic, old-world veneer after seeing them day in and day out.
And it is at this point, that you deserve the proverbial splash of water to the face.
It can come oftentimes in the form of a visitor, as visitors to the area regularly exhibit a new and virgin impression of the place, flattering the facades of the buildings with the kind of new-love eyes you see in romance flicks.
Just the other day as I sat on the porch, I noticed a group of tourists taking photos below. The ocean seemed as quite and calm as a lake, the setting sun had cast this brilliant sheen on the building shells of Punta Pacifica, and several large yachts motored in from a day in the Pearl Islands. It was quite the sight, I must admit, almost like it had been set up by a crew of Hollywood filmmakers. The thing is, I don’t know if I would have appreciated it as much had the tourists not stopped to gape.
They were most certainly the catalyst that reignited my intense fondness for the area. And it was later that evening that I noticed a number of nuances that probably would have otherwise passed me by as well. So now, whenever I feel myself slipping into that haze of anything but the utmost appreciation for Casco Antiguo, I climb up to the balcony where a new set of muses will surely wander on by.