She gently pulled away from me and said, “Goodnight, Walter.” I nodded. She turned and slowly walked away. I wish I hadn’t let her go, so she could have stayed with me forever. But I just watched her until she was completely out of sight.

The next morning, I felt terrible. And not only physically. I was tormented by my hangover and the vague sense of shame over how I behaved the night before. I was particularly distressed by the fact that most of the night had vanished from my memory. But I remembered Anna very well, and that wonderful romantic moment between us did not seem so romantic anymore. I reproached myself all day, and by the evening I came to the only decision that felt right under the circumstances. I would run! The devil had possessed me and was making me do it. I put some essential items in my backpack, then I took the money from my piggy bank. For almost two years, Sunny and I had been saving for motorbikes. We didn’t manage to save that much, but it was enough to keep me going for a couple of weeks at least.

Once my parents were sound asleep, I left the house. I didn’t have a particular plan. I just walked to the station and jumped into the first train to Munich. There weren’t many people onboard, but I didn’t sit down. I remained at the exit doors for almost three hours, leaning against the window and looking into the darkness. My heart was joyful and anxious at the same time. Adventures! I was ready for them and couldn’t wait for them to begin.

By dawn, I was in Munich. I walked out of the main station, and was immediately met by a city of glass and metal. It had been raining overnight, and the streets were fresh. Raindrops glistened on the windows in the rays of the rising sun. The streets were quiet, almost deserted. Only the roar of the garbage truck echoed from the walls. I was standing and looking around, gradually figuring out what to do next. I decided to surrender to fate and go wherever it took me. I was going to see the country and maybe even beyond to Europe. I planned to stay in different cities, large and small. I was going to find a place that filled my heart and soul, and I would stay there. I’d find a job and start a new life as an adult.

I hitch-hiked my way along. I walked for dozens of miles, slept in train stations and ate at roadside diners. I was stopped by police a couple of times, but I managed to convince them that I was going to Nuremberg or Dresden to my beloved grandmother. Once, I almost ran into a gang of skinheads. I ran away very fast.

At the end of my fifth day of travelling, I was somewhere between Austria, Germany and the Czech Republic. Hooray to the united Europe! I was walking along a country road that ran through vineyards. The sun was setting, and I was thinking of a shelter for the night. When I noticed a building on a hill in the distance. It was small, one story, and painted burgundy. I walked closer and saw there was a man in the yard. He stood with his back to me, cutting his roses.

“Good evening” I said to him in German.

“Good evening” he replied as he turned and looked at me.

I think he may have smiled, but I’m still not sure. The man was not very tall, well-built, and about 50 years old. His short dark hair was greying, and he had piercing blue husky-dog eyes.

“Could you tell me, please, if there’s anywhere nearby I could stay for the night?”

“The closest motel is 40 miles from here,” replied the man, waving his hand to the side. “You’ll get there by the morning,” he grinned. His *Hoch Deutsch [*standardised German] was flawless. “You can spend the night here.” The man nodded towards the house.