Living on a mountain

Today I met up with a friend down-town to go for a walk. Instead of doing as everybody else, walking along the lake, we went the other way. And it's so much easier to walk when you're not alone, 'cause you're not even thinking about it. Walking, talking, walking, talking. Excellent.

Except for that there are plenty of joggers, clogging up the walk path. Swish-swosh passing us, you had to really look out. Gosh, don't people have anything better to do on a Sunday?

Then we came to a point when I saw a small sign pointing to the top of the mountain I live on. Ok, so it's not exactly on top of an alp, but still, pretty steep, so I thought, what a great idea. We'll walk to my place and have a refreshment.

So the first steep path was ok. Then crossing a street, and there was the second one, equally steep. My gosh, I had forgotten how high up from the river I live. Talk about power walk. I lost track of how many steep walkways there were. Had to take my jacket off, that's how sweaty it was.

I tell you honestly, if I did that every day for a month, I'll be superfit (yeah I know, but it's not gonna happen).

But it felt really good afterwards. And when my friend demanded homemade pancakes, I heartily joined in and gulped a few down. Gotta have a reward.