Beautiful. I found myself repeating this word every time I turned my head back, and looked at the breath-taking, colonial town of Villa De Leiva. Climbing this mountain wasn´t an easy assignment, especially not for one who acted like a bum in the past three months, like I did. But it was worth every spit of blood. The beauty of the city can not be described by words, even a picture isn´t good enough.
Einav once wrote me of her New York City experience. She was describing the feeling of walking on the streets surrounded by huge metal building, as being the king of the world. Well, I love my friend, but I must disagree. I´ve been in New York and walked those streets. The monsterity buildings are hiding the sun and that´s exactly how I felt. Like I´m walking at the shade of these building. I felt so small, so meaningless.
But here, landing alone in an unknown country, where the people speak ununderstandable language, buying a hungry man a hot meal, taking a bus to unfamiliar destination, passing indescribable beautiful views and writing from the top of the mountain, while listening to Bob Dylan - This is being the King of the World.
