The clock ticked down as we had less than thirty minutes to find our way out of the labyrinth that we brought upon ourselves. The further we adventured into the unknown, the more our once unscathed gleaming shoes became soiled. We kept dredging through the dense, and sticky mud that now engulfed the path. The same path that was once created with the type of gravel that crunches and crackles like pop rocks in water. Every dreadful step lead us out of familiarity, inching into an unfamiliar landscape. Furthermore, the probability of returning to the fluorescent tourist filled road dwindled. The insurmountable maze we had stumbled upon threw us in a daze. As a result, we had not a single speculation in our conscious minds on where we had landed
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Ahead of us was a group of well behaved tourists wearing conventional tourist garments, consisting of wrinkled t-shirts, and clean blue jeans. Along with over packed backpacks. They appeared as if they knew where they were heading, with a peppy tour guide wearing enough survival gear to endure the apocalypse. We approached them assuming they spoke English, and asked, “Do you know where the docks are?” A petite blonde woman wearing a green headband, located at the back of the group, responded sternly, “nicht Englisch.” We knew at that point they were not English, but German. We kept heading down the now wide path along side them and overheard the word “hotel”. Now we knew they were heading where we needed to go. The feeling of disquiet vanished, as glee took its place. We were no longer lost, and could finally return. Twenty minutes had passed and we were no longer misplaced. “Cedric, what time is it?” my voice rushing with exhilaration. He delightfully replied, “6:50!” We had ten minutes to make a mile hike down the road to the congested docks. Despite the dwindling time span, the walk back was exceptionally serene. The gravel path under our feet was tranquil, as our shoes delicately floated across the gravel. The colors of the buildings gave a feeling of warmness as the night transformed into a chillier climate. The scent of baked bread swirled in the breeze, leaving a sweet taste in our mouths. The golden shop lights rapidly flashed off as the day closed in. Hundreds of vibrant people streamed down the path, the gravel vociferously crackling under their feet. Anxious tourists began their trek to the hotels or to the subsiding boat trips. We progressed on as the docks grew near. We could distinguish our group from the crowd, patiently awaiting for the trustworthy vessel from which we had disembarked. Every cheerful step
Ahead of us was a group of well behaved tourists wearing conventional tourist garments, consisting of wrinkled t-shirts, and clean blue jeans. Along with over packed backpacks. They appeared as if they knew where they were heading, with a peppy tour guide wearing enough survival gear to endure the apocalypse. We approached them assuming they spoke English, and asked, “Do you know where the docks are?” A petite blonde woman wearing a green headband, located at the back of the group, responded sternly, “nicht Englisch.” We knew at that point they were not English, but German. We kept heading down the now wide path along side them and overheard the word “hotel”. Now we knew they were heading where we needed to go. The feeling of disquiet vanished, as glee took its place. We were no longer lost, and could finally return. Twenty minutes had passed and we were no longer misplaced. “Cedric, what time is it?” my voice rushing with exhilaration. He delightfully replied, “6:50!” We had ten minutes to make a mile hike down the road to the congested docks. Despite the dwindling time span, the walk back was exceptionally serene. The gravel path under our feet was tranquil, as our shoes delicately floated across the gravel. The colors of the buildings gave a feeling of warmness as the night transformed into a chillier climate. The scent of baked bread swirled in the breeze, leaving a sweet taste in our mouths. The golden shop lights rapidly flashed off as the day closed in. Hundreds of vibrant people streamed down the path, the gravel vociferously crackling under their feet. Anxious tourists began their trek to the hotels or to the subsiding boat trips. We progressed on as the docks grew near. We could distinguish our group from the crowd, patiently awaiting for the trustworthy vessel from which we had disembarked. Every cheerful step