Now, that is strange.
In the absence of good manners and being pretty desperate, I stop in front of an elderly woman. I address her politely and ask whether there are any available hotels in this city. She rolls her eyes at me for bothering her, but tells me that the only accommodation option is the city centre hotel called Tamwine Ville. I thank her, but she just passes me, rolling her eyes once again, and hitting me with her black leather bag.
Strange people. Very grumpy. It just seems like all of them woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
Or maybe they have their period.
Ignoring the voice inside my head, I go directly to where they sell tickets to find out how to get to the only hotel in town. I note the route to it on a crinkled piece of paper I found in my bag. It’s kinda odd that it didn’t have anything on it, though.
I thank the smiling person behind the thick glass, and I move towards the exit of the building, thinking why I didn’t ask this nice lady from the beginning instead of dealing with the fussy, strange people.
The road is going to be an absolute nightmare with my big suitcase that I’m barely carrying behind me, and the big, heavy backpack on my back. Plus, I have a small pink leather bag with me, which I don’t even know why I combined with my outfit. I don’t have any fashion sense, as it seems.
Getting out of the train station, I feel the fresh air, with no sign of pollution, as if I were on top of a mountain. Many flowers like the ones from the station are all around me, but what really makes the city look more like a paradise is the river that’s elegantly flowing just a few steps from me. Also, the pavedstreets have very few cars, and I can swear that they are all electric from the subtle noise they make.
Many generous trees and buildings of up to four floors surround me. Every structure has a unique personality, with superb, distinctive elements, from the moss in a different shade on each facade to the way the shops on the ground floor are decorated.
The restaurant on the left side of the train station has a small Japanese garden at its entrance. The barber shop across the river has a Texan vibe, accessorised with lots of blue, white, and red. The interesting fact is that I haven’t been able to figure out if I’m still in the UK or in another country, because of how different every inch of this city feels, or because of how beautiful the weather is.
All of a sudden, I feel a gloomy breeze on the back of my neck, giving me goosebumps. I stop for a second to look around me. The weird part is that, apart from the black shutters on the windows of every building, I don’t see anything that’s out of place.
That’s probably the main issue. Everything’s suspiciously too neat.
I make a mental note to see why the hell I wanted to end up in this place. I also need to explore all its streets to unravel the dark stories of every building.
I look back at the noted instructions and breathe the clean air before starting to walk again to the hotel, ignoring the horrible headache that won’t leave me alone at the same time. Lying down and taking the strongest headache pill that exists on this earth is what I desperately need.
In all of my 25 years, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. At least, that is what it feels like. My memory is still blurry at the moment, and I cannot manage to remember anything.
On the road to the hotel, I notice that the bridges are also full of the same unusual flowers. A strong fragrance catches my senses, but I can’t tell what the smell is. It feels like roses, but with a divine fruity flavour that makes my headache even worse.
Great.
I try my best to not fall or drop my suitcase so I won’t ruin any flowers. I think these people are utterly obsessed with these, as they majestically surround the city.
I barely manage to walk straight until I reach a huge hotel, which I think could be the biggest building in this city. It has around seven floors and beautiful gardens on its high terraces.
The entrance of the hotel is even more beautiful than what I’ve seen until now in Tamwine.
Different types of trees are all around it, from voluptuous oaks to a very different kind of magnolias, with violet flowers so dark and intense that they seem brought straight from the abyss.
Aside from the mysterious and sophisticated trees, there are plenty of diverse flowers and two artesian fountains surrounding the white marble stairs.
The image of a paradise. I can’t describe it any other way.
I gulp when I see a small, but persistent detail of this hotel: it has five stars.
That’s just great, what can I say? The only hotel in this town, and it’s one for rich people. They should’ve probably told me before getting this far.
That alone makes me realise I don’t even know if I have a credit card to pay with, and I was so stupid not to check.
Before entering the hotel, I search my small bag for money, cards, a phone, an ID card, anything, but I only manage to find an envelope that has the hotel name and a signature in a beautiful calligraphy, but I can’t understand a thing from it.
Amazing.
With my head full of questions and a paralysing lethargy, I surprisingly manage to get up the stairs and enter the hotel without getting tangled up.
I arrive at a simple yet refined reception with black marble and golden details, where I greet the receptionist and hand him the envelope I’m holding.
