Finding yourself in a strange town
Print Edition
As you walked into an old antique shop, you could smell the aging products, like a retired home for bits of decrepit wood and metal. You could almost hear the creaks of the floorboards echoing, as if nothing was under them. The man running the shop was about as old as the objects around him, he was as slow as a tortoise; a big old one.
A small gramophone was playing “Spring” from “The Four Seasons,” but this music was the exact opposite of the feeling of the decrepit shop. This feeling was, cold, hard, curious.
When you left the terrible, old shop, you returned to the sunny hustle and bustle of the main street. So many people wanting, and going to the places they want to go to; some to a jewelry store; some to a supermarket; and even some just to make fun of the shoppers.
Pickpockets were subtly, quickly walking around, obviously, picking pockets. The marching police were formally striding around, wishing everybody a “good morn in”.
In an Indian carpet shop, the sand colored carpet could have been carried by camels or a flying carpet disguised as a new one. The young Indian couple were dancing to a sitar, played by their small son.
When you left the shop you could already smell the fresh bread from the delicious bakery and the juicy meat from the eccentric butcher. Children, hand-in-hand with their mothers, were happily skipping next to the sweet shop hoping to be cute enough to get some sweets. The chapel choir were singing hymns, while the vicar was giving holy bread and communion wine and the little children were slowly feeling dizzy.
Even the library had its own peculiar feeling. The doors of the gigantic building were patterned with old folk tales, with door knobs as big as a dog’s head. The space inside was enough for you to look at it with incredulity, with thousands of shelves, with thousands of books in them and old, creaky floorboards.
The children’s section, however, was the exact opposite. The carpet was light blue and the books were spread out along small, low cases. There were also big squashy armchairs, and cushions so luxurious that sometimes I would just nod off.
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