There are special places, often in the middle of the city, that we pass almost daily. Often even several times. On the way to work, to university, to meet friends.
It is an early Sunday morning in autumn. The foehn tears up the mighty clouds that cover the city. The sun breaks through and lights up the colourful row of houses on the other side of the river. Unique. Similar images come to mind: a bit of Amsterdam, or Bergen, or Nyhavn in Copenhagen or maybe a bit of Willemstad on Curaçao. But my view here remains unique: Mighty mountain slopes that rise steeply from the painted house facades into the sky. Summits so high that they scratch the menacing dark clouds.
But now I’m going one step further. With a leap I heave myself over the iron railing. I want more. I want the unusual from the common. And just four meters below, under the city, there it is: the familiar and yet unfamiliar.
Me, my tent, my folding chair, my mat, in the middle below the city. The river passes quietly. The mild autumn sun is warming. No Amsterdam, no Bergen, no Copenhagen and certainly not a Willemstad are necessary.
SPECIAL TIMES OFFER SPECIAL OPPORTUNITIES: Travel far, VERY CLOSE.