The Grand Georgian - Blue Mountain Resort
How has this hotel rated in the past?
- Swimming pool
- Fitness/Health center
- Wheelchair accessibility
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TripAdvisor Reviews The Grand Georgian - Blue Mountain Resort The Blue Mountains
Travel Blogs from The Blue Mountains
So here I am on the edge of departure, surrounded by the beautiful bones of my winter on the mountain. I walk among these bones and try to read what they mean, to understand what the point of anything is in the end. This place is ruled by absence now, disfigured by the things that were here but have left now. It is as though a small, insistent noise has suddenly stopped, creating a much grander, much louder silence. As for the cold season, it ...
... ones now, but who yet had so much sickness and hurt in store when they woke up to their mothers of all hangovers. Excess is always so excruciating, so expensive in told and untold ways. Things can transpire at night- such shameful, misjudged, cringe-worthy acts- that one can be left wishing the morning would never come. But of course, come it does. In the morning, we awake, we start again. In our house, we were always worried that, if we were to hold ...
... for good this time. In response, my supervisor said a rather cryptic, lovely thing that I didn't really understand the meaning of. She smiled and tilted her head and said, See you at the next location. I may not have entirely understood, but I liked the sound of that. It made it seem somehow as though endings were not really endings at all, or rather that the true ending would be a grand reconciliation, one day, in this world or one of the others. Perhaps ...
... so the spring can be born, so I feel that all the people I have met and befriended here in this place might soon be ripped from me. They will leave yawning holes that will weep silver water for days, weeks to come; a sadness will reign in my heart like an unyielding splinter of winter. But it provides the fertile soil for the experiences of tomorrow. The more that a human heart ruptures, the more open it lies, the more pathways there are inside of ...
... a name that is assuredly not your own, claiming an intimacy and history that has nothing to do with you. Your heart stops. For a second, you are bewildered, disorientated, you doubt the reality of your own life. You are possessed by the ghost of the person you have been mistaken for. Then you get defensive, perhaps you push the hands away, or make an interjection. Then you become apologetic, murmur a few kind words, back slowly into the shadows. I haven't been mistaken for ...