The large wooden door simplistically adorned beckoned me to enter the deserted street. It was late in the evening; the glow of lamps cast a golden haze across the cobblestone pathway and archaic buildings. The stillness of the night was as profound as the smell of winter rainfall, lingering in the air. Walking along, I noticed the various cracks across the facade of buildings, a historical tapestry weaved from the renaissance to the present day. The scene was forlorn, yet it seemed as though the harsh passage of time could not entirely efface the beauty these stones, heralding a bygone era.

Walking along the main thoroughfare of the old city I was acutely aware of the soft tapping of the sound of my footsteps on the archaic cobblestones. It was early morning and the streets were almost deserted. The city was old, decaying yet defiant in its timeless beauty, daring time to forget its relevance. Walking past a side street I paused and looked up narrow stairwell, straddled by tall red buildings. The colours were vibrant, and contrasted magnificently with the blue wooden door. Simplicity and elegance produced something beautiful to behold.