I am overwhelmed, or maybe, I am simply stupefied.
Nestled in a side of one of the many impressive mountains, we are privileged to experience a type of awe-inspiring majesty that only living in unbridled nature can offer.
Rows upon rows of greening mountains extend beyond the sight of even the most keen-eyed squinter.
Welcomed cats slink between our rooms and a manifold of insects drift lazily by, flitting from blooming flower to the next.
The people of Papingo greet us with the same warmth one would greet an old friend, returning home after years away: smiles, nods and kalisperas a plenty.
And to perform in such a place, with such talented people, as trite as it is to say is like a dream; a fantastical, reoccurring dream that one always wakes up from with a smile.
To make a flu circle back to the prompt, one thing I know is that this place, this circumstance and these people are magical, and I hope that I don’t wake up from this dram anytime soon.