The train ride from busy London to the tiny town of Totnes was beautiful. The countryside of England hasn’t changed much in the last few hundred years. Castles are lying in the open fields like wedding cakes in a bridal shop window. An hour earlier, I lost the mac I just bought, forgetting it in the black English taxi on the way to the train station in London.”. “So now I am mac-less, still attached my old faithful Dell computer that will hold the first chapters of the new book I am about to start writing in Totnes”.
When the taxi in Totnes dropped me beside the small rusty gate of Hillfield B&B in the back alley of a noisy street, I wanted to run back to the taxi driver and beg him to drive me back to London. But then I decided not to be me and simply go with the flow into the unknown, even if it does not fit my standards.
I entered the rusty gate after a few long and worried efforts to open it. It seemed like no one had opened this gate for hundreds of years. I walked in to a hidden, flowery backyard where I met Nancy, the weird looking owner that suited so well the old house I was about to enter. Endless old doors opened one after the other to allow me into a beautiful stairway that was wrapped up with old carpet, running along a wavy wall decorated with brown photos of people who had long ago turned to dust. I was led by odd-looking Nancy into my suite on the second floor. Stale air was standing still in all the rooms.
As promised on the website, my suite has a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. In reality, the kitchen and the living room exist as one tiny room, you want call it a kitchen, you want call it a living room. Actually the best room is the bathroom as it has huge windows and 2 old arm chairs with an old rug in-between. You want call it a sitting room, you want call it a bathroom; Odd- Nancy is not attached to room definitions.
The amazing view that was promised on the website was sent in for repairs long ago and will be back in a few hundred years. In the meantime, Odd- Nancy has replaced it with an old back alley view that fits the old windows perfectly.
Nancy kindly handed me an ancient set of keys that allow me to come and go as I wish. When you lock the doors you need to kneel down as all the lock holes are close to the floor; maybe it used to be a dwarf’s castle in the times when fresh air was still flowing along the curved stair hall.
So this is my home for the next 7 days where I will spend most of my days and evenings in writing, and I love it, or at least that is what I think I do.
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