Guess what. You are on a trip, traveling just a few kilometers, from one point of the city to another. I never believed something like this could change me. Neither it could change my feelings for a place. This small journey always started with a walk. The fact that there was so much green around my starting point really helped to accept this place as home. I'm a stupid little child from a small village, in a small valley, with a lot of fucking tourist. Everything there is idealized and soo nice. This little walk in the mornings always reminded me of that time back in the schooldays, when I had to walk down the hill for the bus. So I did here! Passing the beautiful cherry tree, passing the flower lady, which is sitting quietly at her chair. Passing the bakery that smells so nicely and then climbing down the stairs to the bus station at the highway.
In the first week I was really afraid of doing this on my own. Of curse I was in a foreign country and everybody was speaking a language that I'm not capable of, but after the first week that feeling passed. I became one of them. Not like a citizen, but as a working bee of this huge hive we were living together. The bus driver got used to my weird accent, when I asked for the direction and I got used to there nodding.
A couple of hundred meters were between the bus stop I had to get of and the ferry boat I was going to take. Every mornings highlight! The seven up to fifteen minutes on the ferry was my time for total catharsis. With every deep breath of salty air my strength was growing. My thoughts were clear and I was ready to roll.
The few meters between the peer and the train were nice. The ride of the train to short to be recognized but the way up the hill, to my employment made me realized. This did not became home for me because of the trees in front of my girlfriends place, it became home for me, because I felt like I belong here!
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