In our modest Ottawa hotel we had the fanciest breakfast we ever ate. The hotel had what I would call a Persian Restaurant. We were the only customers. Our server was a striking Persian woman in an elegant black dress. The entire restaurant was in pink. Almost everything was pink. One wall was entirely pink with artificial pink flowers, candles, and fans. Asians know how to do fancy. There was a vast array of tables each with leather seats, but only one was occupied, and that was by us, and frankly I felt entirely out of place. I didn’t belong here, but I tried to graciously accept the lavish attention to our every need. Not just needs.  Even for things we would not have dreamed of needing. There was a video monitor with gorgeous scenes constantly changing.  The cutlery was gold. Not silver, gold!  Probably not real gold but looked extremely expensive. And in the background the most incongruous music—country music! I was blown away.

We were given buttons to use to electronically summon the waitress whether to pay or request further service. I had to admit it was efficient. The breakfast looked too good to eat. It didn’t seem right that such food would be served to peasants like us.  The food was excellent. She served us Persian tea with cardamon flavour. I had never heard of it before but it was delicious.

This entire meal was an otherworldly experience. We felt like we were in Iran dining with the richest people there. We felt like bacteria in this pristine and elegant establishment. It was one of the most unusual breakfasts we ever had.

Is it possible to have to much luxury?

Canada never ceases to amaze.