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| Here the Orient and the Old West meet, surprisingly at home in each other's arms. Interlocked honey-walled adobe courtyards, and overhead, a dazzling blue blanket of sky pulled tight across the city of Santa Fe. Twenty-two guest suites, odd and mysterious and deeply luxurious, each a dream of Scheherazade. A suite winds around on itself, leading from room to hidden room, the ceilings thatched with woven straw or carved by hand hundreds of years ago in a land far away. Astonishing bathrooms, cavernous rounded tubs filled feet deep with steaming water, crowned by vivid tile mosaics made from bowls and urns that once were. |
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