Atdtda23: [45.1] Charm, 644

[Paul Nightingale]

[644.2-7] It appeared to be another of these damned ladies' gathering spots.
Just off the lobby of a reputable hotel near the Union Depot, tables
surrounding a patio, clean as a whistle, plaster on the walls white as new,
a stepping-off place for gringos making their first trip south, friendly
senoritas in charming native outfits bringing afternoon tea in matching
crockery and so on.

Not for the first time, cf. our first view of Nochecita, on 200:

The depot at Nochecita had smooth stuccoed apricot walls, trimmed in a
somehow luminous shade of gray--around the railhead and its freight sheds
and electrical and machine shops, the town had grown, houses and businesses
painted vermilion, sage, and fawn, and towering at the end of the main
street, a giant sporting establishment whose turquoise and crimson electric
lamps were kept lit all night and daytime, too, for the place never closed.

Also cf. Dally on tourists, on 574:

Quite soon she had grown to hate tourists and what she saw them doing to
Venice, changing it from a real city to a hollow and now and then
outright-failed impersonation of itself.