The plane landed in Willowmere at two in the afternoon.
I took the shuttle from Willowmere International Airport to the city center, then transferred to a local bus. By the time I finally arrived in Riverbend, I was almost too tired to lift my suitcase.
It was the canal town I had dreamed about for two years.
The lanes were paved with cobblestones. The whitewashed walls were topped with dark slate roofs. The canal water flowed past in deep green ribbons, and the faint sweetness of honeysuckle drifted through the air.
At the entrance to a narrow lane, an old man sat with a folding fan in his hand, eyes half-closed as he listened to folk ballads playing softly on the radio.
I had booked a guesthouse online.
Martha Marlowe, the owner, saw me dragging my suitcase in by myself and asked i
