After nearly missing my flight back home, I had been ambushed by my family’s intent to go in the mountains. Little did I know what was in for me, so I said “yes”. I always maintain that my country has amazing views and nature, wouldn’t it be strange if I refused to go see them?
The weather gods didn’t seem to be on our sides, a great cloud eating us up a soon as the car arrived in the camp. Rain started falling, somehow to spite us. I was overjoyed. I wanted to go back home and play on my computer, and I also was supposed to skype with Daniel so I was quite excited by that. But no, we just stood there and waited. The weather gods were definitely not on my side, as the rain disappeared and the sun started shinning.
Adventures and travel is amazing. But you need to have the right mental state for that specific kind of thing to enjoy it. For some reason, all my will of life had departed my body and I was crawling up the mountain like a zombie. All I could think was “What point is there to go to the next f@#$% peak just to see the same thing?”.
It was horrible. I was horrible.
The evil mist more or less followed us everywhere – with the occasional break so we did manage to see around us and take pretty pictures. Having seen The Mist – and generally believing this weather phenomena is sent by Satan, I was in deep distrust about continuing to move up the mountain and towards other peaks.
To get motivated, I tried pretending we’re in The Hobbit. It worked for a bit. Also eating seemed to help. For a bit. Then I became a zombie once more.
There is shockingly little that I could narrate here. There were blueberrie fields at the very beginning of our hike. Most probably where bears and witches come to collect them. As nature poured itself next to me, all I could think – I was in a most irritated mood -was how amazing it would be if it stopped pouring. And just dissapeared.
A bakery would have been great.