The concierge who greeted them is not currently at the front desk.  He's been replaced by a six-foot-plus middle aged ruddy-faced muscle-man with short blonde hair, a walrus mustache, and a touristy floral print shirt under a white lab coat.  He's studying a clipboard, tapping one finger on the counter as he does so...but looks up and smiles pleasantly when addressed.<br/><br/>"Oh, hi, there."<br/><br/>Definitely American.  Sounds Midwestern, maybe.<br/><br/>"What's for fun around here?  Everything, I think.  This is the Plaza of Flowers.  You could watch the street performers, go shopping, maybe even go watch the fights or dancers over at Sad Mary's.  Or a cafe.  There's one along The Ramble, but be careful what you order.  The Morning Glory muffins are kind of spicy."<br/><br/>He clears his throat.<br/><br/>"As in hallucinogenically spiked."