I’m going to tell you an amusing story about what happened to me last holiday.
At the beginning of August my best friend Monica and I went to the Tatra Mountains where we were going to enjoy the wilderness of the nature and the beauty of the landscape during daily hikes.
It was a warm summer morning. We were climbing up to the top breathing in fresh air and admiring the view stretching before of our eyes. In our heavy backpacks there was
a supply of refreshments, waterproof jackets, maps, torches, binoculars and a camera that we had packed the previous evening. Monica was whistling quietly and I could not wait to take millions of photos from the peak.
Our contentment went away though, the moment we reached the top. Instead of a delightful panorama of rocky ridges and tiny villages perched in the valleys, we saw a thick cover of mist. It was 3 p.m. then and we were terrified by the thought of how long it would take us to go down. ‘We won’t come back before it is dark,’ cried Monica.
Not having much time to waste, we started to follow a footpath descending to the nearest shelter. We had to be very careful so as not to trip over and fall down as we could hardly see anything.
Suddenly, I realised that I could not find the ground to put my foot on. ‘Stop!’I shouted. ‘I’m afraid there’s a precipice in front of us. I’m not going any further!’
After that we decided to spend a night in the mountains. It was really cold and we felt really miserable the next morning. Not only because of cold. To our surprise, the fog was gone and my ‘precipice’ appeared to be one-metre-deep hole while the shelter was just about 50 metres from the place where had just spent a whole night!