The travel agent 16/21

It was late in the afternoon when George pointed out the travel fog. Eve was dying for a sit down and a nice cup of tea but George appeared to be as fresh as when he’d started.

He still seemed very keen on explaining various features of the landscape as they passed, although quite frankly Eve couldn’t really see the point of half of what he said.

They were walking through a flat area of the country, with a sea wall on their left and marshy ground on their right. It was all a bit boring, very tiring and not really that unusual.

She’d once been on holiday to Essex and stayed in places just like this, except that they were made colourful by holidaymakers, sailing about in little boats with pretty coloured sails. She hadn’t really enjoyed it then.

This part of the country was even less interesting, wherever it was. By the time George was pointing out the timber yard and the fact that amazingly the whole place was run by just one waterwheel, she couldn’t have cared less.

“Can we just get to this inn you keep on talking about? I’m tired, very hungry and my feet hurt. All I really want right now is somewhere I can lie down and have a rest!”

George apologised and kept on walking, right past the timber yard and its quayside, along the road at the foot of a small cliff and round a bend, still following the river.

“There,” he said triumphantly, “Lurbridge. Not far to go now!”

Eve couldn’t see what it was he was getting so excited about. Not too far away was a small collection of very old-fashioned looking buildings.

Most of them were made of timber with wattle and daub in filling. The roofs in some cases were thatched, although most at least were tiled. None of it looked very clean, while the few people she could see looked very much like the group that she’d seen when she first met George.

George lead the way into the village, where he was greeted respectfully by those he met as ‘Sir George.’ Eve staggered along beside him, until at last they came to the village green, where the George and Dragons proudly displayed its sign. Other than that, it didn’t appear to be different to any of the other dilapidated looking houses she’d seen.

“Landlord, best room in the house for my guest,” shouted George as soon as he set foot in the door. “I’ll be back in a moment; I’m just off to the smith’s to see about my horse.”