four

The street outside the train station was replete with the minor, yet charming details of everyday life. The businessmen walking back from lunch, briefcases in hand, checking watches with dispassionate and calm eyes. The old ladies walking in pairs, dressed for a colder season. The sounds and smells of bakeries, butchers, a hardware shop, and the ever present chatter of the people and the birds above.

George ambled along, waiting for his eyes to be caught by a sight that would draw him in. He took turns down new roads, choosing his path with no concern, and it was not long until he arrived outside a shop called The Old Artisan, whose window was home to a display of various wooden wares. George stepped inside and was welcomed by the ringing of a little bell above the door and the smell of wood shavings. All about there were sculptures of heads, fine tables, delicate or robust chairs, chess boards, cabinets, each carved from rich wood.

‘Hello young man. What are you looking for?’

‘What?’ George could not see where the question had come from.

‘Are you looking to buy a particular item?’

‘No, I just came into town and stumbled upon this place. You have some amazing things. Did you make them all yourself?’

‘Indeed.’ A man, maybe sixty years old stood from behind a high desk in the corner. ‘Are you on a journey?’

‘I am.’

‘I could tell. How about some lunch. A traveller needs his strength.’

‘Yes thank you.’

The man, the artisan, beckoned George to follow and led him through into a back room that was busy both with kitchen utensils and woodwork tools, and where the table was barely visible under the clutter. George was invited to sit with a gesture, whilst the man got bowls for a soup that was simmering away on the hob.

‘Have you come far?’ asked the old man.

‘No, I only set off this morning on the train.’

‘Ah I see. Setting off is the hardest part, now all you need is courage and curiosity.’

‘Did you set off on a journey once then?’

‘I did, and in a way I’m still on a journey. You see, once you choose to set off on an adventure, you never really stop. Every day is an opportunity.’

George sipped at his soup, that was warming and felt as if it nourished. He thought about what the man had just said, that everything that one did could be part of a bigger task.

‘How long have you been doing wood carving?’

‘Since I was born. My father worked with wood too and he taught me the skills I possess now, although I think I’ve expanded on them a bit too. Do you have a trade or a skill?’

George shook his head and, glancing about at the intricate work that was so demonstrative of ability, he felt as if there were a part of himself unformed; ready to grow but currently unused.

‘Well, how is the food?’ asked the man after a brief pause.

‘Very good thank you. How may I repay you?’

‘Hmm. There maybe is an errand you can run for me, one more suited to a young man.’

‘Sure. I have to catch the train again later, but for the next few hours I’m free.’

‘Excellent. Then finish your lunch and join me outside.’

The old man turned and left the kitchen via a backdoor, pushing it open with his hard hands.

three

George sat by a window and waved a brief goodbye to Scott as the train pulled away, its heavy, metal body gaining speed. The train was almost empty, a young couple sleeping in one corner and an old man right at the far end, but the carriage was filled with the sound of mechanical power and the rhythmic clacking of the wheels upon the rails. The train rocked gently from side to side, and George could not resist the sleep that came.

Outside the day was brightening with the sky now shaded a lucid, pale blue. The sun was visible over the low hills that swept by in graceful formation, and one could tell that the day would be a hot one.

When George was wakened an hour later by the ticket inspector nudging his shoulder, he found that he felt sweaty and thirsty. He rummaged about in his pockets and withdrew his ticket, labelled with date, places, numbers of a code.

‘Seems like you’ve got a long journey,’ said the inspector as he punched a hole in the ticket. George nodded in agreement, and put the ticket back into his pocket. He wanted to sleep again, but the landscape outside held his attention.

The train was now skirting along the coastline and George was able to see, when the trees and bushed allowed it, a sea coloured white and flecked with reds, greens, and blues. Waves collided and tussled with one another, all the time rushing about the tall, stone stacks and skerries. High above the waves gulls glided. George observed all this with an intensity borne by something novel, something new to his senses that he found fascinating and beautiful, and as he again drifted to sleep, urged by the carriage’s heat and motion, his surroundings blended with dreams. The sea seemed a great sheet being washed, the rocks and cliffs became wandering beasts of great size, the birds above could be heard to be singing along with the train’s own tune.

It was not long however until the train was stopping at its next station, a small town, not dissimilar to the one George had left this morning. The platforms were covered by a wooden roof, and through the windows at the back there could be seen a set of streets, loaded with people busying about, and shops that from this distance could not be defined. To George’s sleepy eyes, fresh from viewing the world as a magical place, this town was a maze like hub of intricacies and fascinating distractions.

‘Excuse me,’ said George as he gained the ticket collector’s attention. ‘Could I get off here for a while and use my ticket to get the next train?’

‘Yes that’s fine, just make sure you don’t miss the last train at eight o’clock. Pass me your ticket.’ George did so and the official made a mark on with his pen. ‘There you go.’

George collected his bag and alighted onto the platform that welcomed him with the smell of lunch carried on a cool breeze. He was thankful for the chance to explore this village, similar in some ways to his own, but different enough to raise the imagination. He left the station and went to find a place to eat.