Torrential rain beat an incessant rhythm, lashing the windscreen as I arrived at my destination. The wipers could barely cope with the ferocity of the storm. I slowed as I approached the gates, which to my surprise, stood invitingly open. Two massive wrought iron gates, black and as ancient as the house itself were guarded on either side by two recumbent stone lions, atop the massive pillars that served as gateposts. I drove very slowly past these two ancient guardians and made my way along the long and winding driveway towards the house. Even in the midst of the storm, the sound of crunching gravel filled the car as the tyres gripped the loose chippings that made up the driveway. As I negotiated a tight bend in the drive, the house itself came into view through the rain-lashed screen.
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