It’s carnival time in Europe, a crazy time of parades, masks, music and mischief.
We’d entered this untamed forest by a path created not by the park service but worn into the ground by the footsteps of those who went in before us — some of whom never came out.
Did the pathetic winter ski season leave you longing for a chance to touch snow? Is the longing so strong that you can’t wait until next season?
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