Painting The BadBoy ✔

43 | The Tour

When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. For a moment, I wondered if it was just a dream. It probably was.

I was feeling a lot better. After a quick shower, I put on a fresh pair of clothes and sneakers, before going down for breakfast.

At the hall, the cook was serving plates upon plates of fluffy omelets and red beans. There was also an assortment of juices along with muffins and bread and that kinda stuff.

At the table, only Jessica, Franny and Cayden were present.

I assumed everybody else was still asleep.

Murmurs of greetings ran between us as I sat down with my plate and a glass of orange juice.

"Slept well?" Franny asked.

I nodded, taking a bite out of my blueberry muffin.

"Franny planned a tour for us today." Jessica told me.

"Where to?" I turned to Franny.

"The ancient church, cathedral, that sort of thing. There's an old bell tower too, and cliffs on the edge of the beach."

"Sounds fun." I said with a mouthful of beans.

After breakfast, I went to my room, and having nothing else to do, I took out a book and started reading.

Brida was a tale of a young woman- in her twenties, if you must know- seeking the ways of the universe. At least that's how I liked to tell the story. The author, Paulo Coelho, was a great writer with different views on life. Different didn't necessarily mean bad though. Good-different.

I was only halfway through when there was a knock on the door. It was Cayden, asking me to get ready if I wanted to go.

I quickly grabbed a scarf and tugged it around my neck before brushing my hair and letting it fall over my shoulders.

Downstairs in the lobby, there was Franny, Alecia, the two lovebirds from this morning, the brother of one of those lovebirds, and Rosie.

"Where are the rest?" I asked.

"Either sleeping, or didn't wanna come." Replied Rosie. Dani caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back.

"Is that him?" Eli whispered.

I looked at the person he was pointing to. The tour-guide was talking to Franny. He had long hair that he had pulled into a small ponytail, and light stubble. One more word. Tall.

"Hey guys." He turned to us, waving. "I'm Jim, I'll be your tour-guide today."

"Oo Laa Laa." Whispered Eli, fanning himself dramatically. I held back a laugh.

"Let's start at the west, near the old church. Is it okay with everyone to travel on foot?"

"How far away is it?" Asked Rosie.

"Fifteen minutes." He replied.

Rosie groaned, and I couldn't help thinking how lazy our generation- me, myself and I included- was.

Jim led us towards the path that ran across the strip of beach and lead towards the West. The sun was visible, but slightly hazy as fog thickened the air.

A few cars were parked on the sides of houses and little shops, but none could be seen. Towards the North-West side, boats arrived from the shores carrying nets full of fish.

St. Paul's cathedral, or The Old Church as it was locally called, was indeed old and crumbling. The towering building was set on a steep, rocky hill and was made of a mixture of cement and limestone. The stone had started to wear away because of the increase of rain in these areas, and parts of the building were completely broken or falling apart.

Jim led us up the steps- I counted fifty-nine- towards the church. Since it was too dangerous to go inside, Franny had us do a full circle from the outside.

The paint was wearing off the tall glass windows, and a large crucifix could be seen. I sat squarely in the middle of a slope built as a stage with dark colored benches facing the front.

"The church was built in the late nineteenth century. It was when the town had first begun to develop in its own renaissance period. That's what surprises historians most, actually."

I didn't know what it was, or why historians would study it in the first place, but I thought it best not to ask questions.

"Did people actually worship here?" asked Jessica, scrunching her nose. It was hard to believe. The church looked like it would be the very home of evil spirits.

"Every Sunday." Replied the tour-guide.

He led us towards the back of the hill, which was less steep and easier to descend. Instead of being deserted like expected, the road at the bottom harbored a little market.

It was bustling with people, some buying, some selling others bargaining the prices. We passed by a baker selling bread, urging us to come buy it at half price. Some ladies, buying fruits from a stout man with a jolly face. A woman in a stand with benches beside her, pouring porridge in a bowl for a lady and some kids. Most of them seemed to notice us as we passed by, but not in a special way, like we were foreigners or something. Some were friendly, waving at Jim, stopping her for a quick chat. He knew almost everyone.

It was like a medieval village square, without the fancy clothes and the ridiculous thee's and thy's.

"Now this is cool." Said Jessica, whipping out her camera. She began taking pictures of the marketplace, the town's historic buildings and the scenic cliffs that stood out in dark shadows behind the town. Or rather, in front. I guess it mattered on where you lived.

The clock tower - Cayden had been wrong. It wasn't a bell tower- stood in the middle, at the edge of the stoned pavement. The shops and buildings gave way to it, like it was their leader and they were merely listeners, not speakers.

The circular tower was built with gray stone, and stood taller than any other building in sight. Victorian designs were carved on it with elegance and precision, something not many structures had today.

"There are stairs that lead upwards." Jim announced.

Rosie sighed. "More stairs?"

"The view is worth it." Jim flashed a pearly-white smile. "I promise."

At the back of the tower, a little door led towards the spiral staircase that took us to the top of the tower.

"Are you sure these stairs are safe?" asked Franny.

"They've been rebuilt recently." Replied our tour-guide. "So I would say yes."

This time, I was too lazy to count the number of steps. They led up to an interior balcony with space just enough for one person to walk through.

Jim was right. The view was totally worth it.

Through the rectangular window pane, I could see... well, everything.

The tops of the houses and buildings, the trees and the hills. Further than that, the cliffs with their jagged edges, curved and glinting like opaque glass.

But the sea was the most beautiful of all. White sand gave way to water that crashed into the rocks and headed back as the waves gently lapped the surface. The little light that the sun gave glinted further out, reflecting off the water and sparkling like tiny diamonds.

"It's so..."

"Breathtaking." Eli finished for me.

I realized that the short time I had been here; I hadn't even felt the sand between my toes or gone splashing in the water.

But there were twelve more days left, and I planned to take full advantage.