A million miles from home

The bare walls stare back at me as I stand there alone in the large empty room contemplating my next move. The morning sun streams through the cracks in the blinds, my back greeted by its comforting warmth. I turn to face the sunshine and the world which waits for me on the other side of the window pane. The street below is a blur of colours and speeding bicycles weaving their way through the slow procession of cars. The roar of car engines and muffled shouts from the street below disturbs the silence of the empty room as I open the window.
It is still relatively early in the morning yet I have been awake and travelling for some hours now. The plane had lifted off the tarmac and disappeared in to the grey clouds which lingered above the peaceful and sleeping villages nestled deep within the green countryside. And now I stand alone in this foreign city, hundreds of miles from the familiar faces and comforting voices of my friends and family.
My whole body is exhausted, my arms numb from tackling the three flights of stairs with my suitcase dragging awkwardly behind me, but I am keen to wander the streets and spend my day lost in the lively bustle of the city.
Downstairs, I stand for a minute on the crowded pavement trying to take it all in, overwhelmed by the people and noise which swarms around me. Studying the sign posts, daunting with their foreign and harsh sounding names, I feel more lost now than ever. I make off in one direction, my feet shuffling along the pavement seemingly knowing where they are taking me.
I lose track of time as I walk but gradually the pavements become easier to negotiate as the crowds dwindle. I turn on to an old cobbled street, the sweet and welcoming smell of fresh bread and pastry lingers in the air. I wander aimlessly, absorbed and in admiration of tall narrow brick buildings which crouch overhead on either side, the pavements are littered with rusting old bicycles perched against the railings. Beautiful painted boats stretch along the length of the canal which divides the street; they wait patiently in the calm waters as sodden golden leaves float from the branches above.
Just ahead of me I can see baskets and signs cluttering up small shop windows and hear the gentle strumming of a guitar further down the street. I walk towards the sound, enchanted by the music and my new surroundings, intrigued and eager to discover the city and for the adventure that lies ahead.