Crossing a bridge, I entered the a town and made my way up the hill. Strangely, many of the sights felt oddly familiar, though I couldn’t quite place why. I pushed these thoughts aside as I arrived at a small square.
Dusk had already begun to fall. Lanterns glowed warmly all around, casting a friendly, golden light. The clouds were beginning to clear and a small crescent moon flashed through the wispy clouds from time to time.
Despite my crash landing, I felt a surprising sense of optimism and headed toward the largest building on the square. I could hear music and laughter coming from inside – and if there was anywhere I might find food and, hopefully, a place to sleep, it would be there.
I opened the heavy wooden door and entered the pub. The guests’ heads turned towards me and I saw astonishment on their faces. I didn’t realise at the time that hardly anyone comes to Tarcania, so I was a little surprised.
The astonishment gave way to a friendly smile and a cosy-looking middle-aged man with red cheeks and a leather apron came up to me and led me to a table.
‘I’m Marcus and I’m the owner of the Golden Chalice,’ he introduced himself. ‘You must be hungry after your journey, right?’ he smiled. How did he know I’d had a long walk?
‘I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.’ Marcus disappeared behind a door and came back with a jug and a wooden board with bread, cheese, grapes and ham.
‘I’m Bobbie and I don’t know if I can pay you because I only have Syrian piastres and Reichsmark.’ Marcus just grinned and said, ‘No problem, you’re my guest today and tomorrow we’ll find a solution.’
That moment I realised how hungry I was and was grateful for this gift.
When I was satisfied, Marcus came with two jugs, sat down with me and asked me where I had come from. I told him the story of my crash and was naturally curious myself as to where I was.
‘Tarcania? That doesn’t mean anything to me and I know my maps and Europe. Where is this country?’
Marcus leaned back with an amused smile and explained to me that it was a land between worlds and therefore not on any map I knew.
I had previously dismissed such stories as fantasies and fairy tales and now I was in the middle of such a story. That was pretty hard to accept.
The storm had carried me to another dimension and here I was, stranded and with no idea if or how I would ever get back.
But the people seemed to be friendly and so it seemed that I was lucky in my misfortune.
‘If you want, you can sleep in one of my guest rooms and tomorrow we’ll work out together how things can go on for you here and how you can get back home,’ Marcus offered me.
I was relieved and gladly accepted the offer, as I was feeling very tired after such a long day.
I followed Marcus up the creaky wooden stairs to the first floor. At the end of a narrow corridor, he unlocked a door, pressed a lantern and the key into my hand and disappeared.
The room was simple, just a bed, a wooden table with a stool, a chest of drawers and a bowl of water with a thin towel hanging next to it.
I was too tired to think clearly. So I sank onto the rather hard bed, pressed the pillow together and pulled the blanket over me.
Tomorrow I would find out more about Tarcania and how I would get home again…
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