My room with a view, my place with meaning, is difficult for me to describe as I don’t even think a place like this actually exists. If I were to be transported through time and space to anywhere in the world, it wouldn’t be one specific destination, rather, a culmination of all the best bits of this planet, the good bits, the great bits and the little idiosyncrasies that would make for an idyllic haven. There would be no war, no conflict and no famine. There would be no discrimination or judgement over colour, race, creed, religion or culture. Monetary gain would be a thing of the past as finances would be less of a worry and everything would be attainable, in perfect reach; all that would be required is a little bit of effort and a lot of genuine heart.
The landscape would be luscious, green and healthy, with sprawling hillsides, pleasant and abundant. The coastlines would be not unlike those you see on the beaches in Thailand and the oceans would be so crystal clear that the bluest parts of the Pacific would be weep in shame.
As I step off a plane, landing in my heaven, the sun does not hurt my eyes, and all I can see is light. The air is clean, crisp and fresh and as I breathe it in I do not feel stifled or choked, more enriched and energised. There is no humidity here, nor is it dry, or wet even. I feel a slight breeze on my face which is welcome and calming. Up ahead lies a cluster of grey clouds, indicating that rain will soon come, but this is ok, for the rain will improve the land, feeding it with vital nutrients before quickly moving on to supply water to someone else’s home.
I board a train to the city, a sprawling cosmopolis of wonder and amazement, where buildings soar wildly into the clouds, juxtaposed against a back-drop of inner-city garden parks which resonate with extreme serenity. There is no pollution in this city, no aggression or urgency. The cars move along at a subtle speed, occupying the abundance of space where any manoeuvre is carried out with ease and without problem. The vibrancy of colours rival the Holi festival, the languages spoken are soft and welcoming and the integration of culture is marvellously accepted. There are smells from every nation and culinary delights to suit every palate. The inhabitants are amicable and trustworthy and the strong sense of community spirit resonates on every street corner.
As I make my way east and begin to meander through the narrow cobbled streets, lined with kitsch cafes and boutique shops, I can smell the salt of the ocean stinging my nostrils. I can feel, once again, the gentle sea breeze as it tenderly slaps my face; and I feel comforted, I feel almost home.
I turn one last corner and there I am, in a clearing, and before me spread the most immaculate shoreline one could ever imagine. The sand is so white that to touch it would be to almost taint it; the ocean rolls on for miles, so calm and pristine that it becomes increasingly difficult to see where the water ends and the horizon begins. Family and friends congregate on the sands, content and smiling, enjoying each others’ company. No worry occupies their minds, no frowns can be seen upon their faces and no ailment dashes their bodies, for they are at peace, at one with the world, joyous and thriving on all that life has to offer. For this is it, my small corner of this perfect world. My ideal. My happiness.
Chasing Amy-Lou 