seven

Getting off the train at Gorlis was an unpleasant experience for George. Whereas before the train stations had been small and kind to the senses, here it was loud with angry looking people, and harshly lit by bare bulbs and lights from the street outside. He was shepherded by the crowd towards the exits and brought to the road outside the station, which was broad yet felt cramped, and was possessing of a great sense of disorganization. Before George could even look about in order to get his bearings a man had come up to him, grabbed his elbow, and began leading him off, saying to him:

‘New to town, yes sir? Come with me I will show you a good hotel.’

George did not know how to respond. In a way he was glad of the help, but he was also obviously suspicious of the man, whose steps were rapid and overly eager, and whose gentle yet firm grip on George’s elbow never relented.

‘I actually know where I am going already. But thank you though.’ George pulled his elbow away, the man’s fingers hurting him.

‘Whatever,’ responded the man curtly, who returned back to the train station to get another visitor.

George had already felt unwilling to be here, and having to lie to a stranger who was no doubt trying to get some money for nothing, had put him off even more. He looked around, feeling sorry for himself, and tried to espy a sign. There were none to be seen anywhere, except for the occasional and defaced road name. George took to walking, hoping to find respite from the chaos about him.

The streets here were thronging with noise and busyness; people were selling handicrafts and food, there were shoe shiners, road sweepers and people trying to attract you into their establishments, be they restaurants or pubs. After a few minutes of negotiating the pavements and weaving among the crowds, George relented to an invite into a respectable looking pub, The Cliff Tavern.

Inside was busy but not full, and George went and stood at a place at the bar, hoping to be get a strong drink and to perhaps get trustworthy information about a hotel.

‘Alright mate? What can I get for you?’

‘Just a beer thanks,’ responded George with a moment’s hesitation, regretting that he did not have a whisky coming his way. ‘Could you tell me of a good hotel nearby too?’

‘Of course mate,’ answered the barman whilst he pulled the beer, ‘we have two rooms available right now, both are for twenty shillings a night. One is overlooking the street and is a bit noisier, and the other is at the back, nice and quiet. Which would you like?’

‘The one at the back thanks. I’m a bit tired from travelling.’

‘Sure thing. I’ll add the drink to your room tab. Do you want the key now?’

‘Please.’

So everything was quickly resolved in the end. George had been fortunate to find this place, which was both more pleasant than he had thought it might be, as well as being cheaper than he thought it might have turned out. He finished his drink, feeling much happier now, and walked up the thin wooden stairs towards his room.