Journeying

I stood there on the cliff edge, watching the waves below rise up towards me, feeling the wind blowing in my face and the rain gradually soak through my hair and clothes. I waited. I was dimly aware of the beauty of my surroundings; the surface of the lake sparkling like reflected starlight, the long grass and bushes swaying in the wind and dancing as the rain hit the leaves. I was even aware of the distant thunder of the waterfall as it dropped gracefully to crash into the water. Still in my own world, I waited.
I remembered what had happened before as though it was a different life; I had started a new journey and a new beginning just a few months ago. Now it seemed my journey had ended but I still wasn’t sure why I was here. Without thinking, I reached down to my pocket, pulled out the necklace and held it up. A single star shone through a break in the clouds, illuminating the elaborate silver filigree and drop crystal pendant.
I thought of the day I bought the necklace. I had walked into the antique jewellery shop looking for a gift and was immediately drawn to the counter on my left. I walked over, looked down and saw a necklace with my name on it, literally - it had been worked into the silver filigree. Naturally curious about how such an item had been created and its history, I asked the assistant if I could look at it. ‘Of course’ was the simple reply.
As the assistant opened the glass cabinet, he explained how the necklace had been sold to them some years ago and it had sat in the cabinet ever since, an item of curiosity. Although the assistant had not worked in the shop at the time, he had been told the necklace was previously owned by a Polish refugee. The refugee had only said he no longer needed the necklace, but someone else would in time to come. The necklace was handed to me, and then it happened.
Suddenly, I was in the middle of nowhere. It was pitch black; I could see and hear nothing. It felt like I was weightless and suspended in a timeless void. Just as I was beginning to get disorientated by the sensory blackout, I noticed a faint whistling sound gradually getting louder and with a bizarre cinematic-type effect, a wave of colour came rushing towards me. With an abruptness that made me nauseous, I found myself standing in a vast forest. Through the trees I could just make out a long deep valley and high mountains on the other side. A greenish light filtered through the leaves; it was warm and very humid. I could hear birds singing, various insects chirping and other soft animal noises. I also had the feeling of being totally alone; the only human alive. I suppose I should have been terrified, but I felt safe, protected.
I blinked and found myself back in the shop; the assistant hadn’t noticed anything. As I collected my thoughts, I realised I now knew two things - I had to have the necklace and for some reason, I had to go to the Middle East; now. I bought the necklace and quietly left the shop. Within the next couple of days, I had put my affairs, such as they were, in order and planned to leave the country. The only person not surprised by my sudden decision to travel was my mother. She simply told me to travel well, live up to my name, and then she hugged me.
I decided to travel light and packed a fairly small bag, then, acting mostly on instinct, I went to London Heathrow airport and bought a ticket for the next flight to Tehran, with only a short stopover in Istanbul. Surprisingly, I had timed my arrival just right to check in, wait for a short time, then board the plane.
On landing I was able to obtain a visa before leaving the airport, and then I was driven by instinct, a feeling so strong I had to act. I remembered to obtain local currency, and then almost without thinking I caught a train that would take me further north to Tabriz. As I left the train and made my way to the exit, I kept gazing around at the stunning architecture. The light was streaming through the many windows and the lake I caught sight of outside looked inviting. I felt a thrill of anticipation.
Over the next few days I took a slow tour round the city. One memorable day I got lost in the old bazaar in the centre of the city, apparently its oldest structure. I spent a few hours searching through the stalls, studying the different schools and mosques and stuck my head in the jewellers’ bazaar, amazed by the many different precious stones. Eventually I stumbled on the way out of the bazaar and found myself looking up at the House of Constitution, an old and imposing building. I stood looking up at the building for a few minutes, admiring the pillars and balconies. It was a short time before I realised this wasn’t what I was looking for.
I took in some of the other sights during my wanderings, sampled the local food and some of the famous cookies. I spend a while staring up at the imposing archway of the Blue Mosque and wandering round the Tomb of Poets. I knew I was looking for something, but didn’t know what.
Finally, I visited the hillside garden El Goli. I stood on a hill on the eastern side, looking down across the trees to the grand hexagonal building and the lake. In the distance I could see the high mountains. Although most of the space in between was now built up, this was what I had been looking for. Here it started; here was Eden.
Almost in a trance, I reached down and took out the necklace that had travelled safely with me but I had not worn. As I held it up to the sky, the sun hit the pendant. Once again, I was standing in the forest but this time I recognised the mountains in the distance. Although moved in time, I had not moved in space. The necklace had shown me the beginning, and now I had found it. I blinked.
I had thought to find myself back in modern time El Goli. Instead I was looking out across cliff tops, the sea crashing on the rocks below. The sky was a clear blue and the trees were so green they looked more than real. I had a sense of waiting. I blinked again and now found myself back in modern El Goli. The now familiar instinct was directing me to Turkey.
Returning to my hotel, I packed my bag and got back on the train to Tehran. At the airport I planned my journey. Ironically I would be flying back to Istanbul, before transferring to Kars. Once there I would catch a bus that would take me to Iğdır. Again, my timing was impeccable as I was able to catch the first flight with little waiting time. Once in Iğdır, I found another bus and headed for the foothills of Ararat, through the fertile plain of the cotton farms. Once there, I spent a while gazing up at the mountain, noting the snow covering the top third. This journey would need a bit more care and having scouted around, I joined an expedition climbing the mountain.
And so here I was, waiting, standing lost in thought. I held up the necklace, the single star shone through the pendant and I was standing looking across the cliff tops. There was no city to help me judge, but there were still differences. Once again, I had travelled back through time but not space. I waited.
Eventually, a dove flew past me and landed some distance behind me. Looking across the now massive lake, I noticed a shape on the horizon. I stood patiently waiting, and watched the giant boat sail in. I knew this was a solemn moment, again the start of something new, but I couldn’t help grinning. My overworked instincts were telling me that on board the boat would be seven humans and hundreds of animals. They had been on a long voyage and were finally coming to land. It was a chance to start again.
I blinked again and now I saw… A new sight, another beginning, another place to travel to. But that is not for this story. For now, this is an ending.

Incidentally, you may be wondering. What was the name in the necklace, my name? My mother named me well. I am called Ladan, which is Hebrew for witness.