Our taxi driver dropped us off at the beginning of this section of road and met us on the other side. It wasn't very hard to see why: it was much more enjoyable on foot than it would have been from the car. As we walked, swallows tagged along above our heads, zipping through the air, plunging toward the river in hot pursuit of one insect or another, then coming back to their nests in the rock overhead.
There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.
- Robert Louis Stevenson