Guys, you have to help me out here. I'm having some sort of crisis of nationalistic wavering. Our 'wide brown land' is our birthright... and is not to be traded... not even compared... with other vistas. We should not have our emotions jolted by majestic mountain beauty... cultured... manicured... photo-shopped scenery. But confession is good for the soul... in a moment of weakness, I said to Joye, " I'm having difficulty thinking of an Australian location that can match the landscape beauty on show today." As soon as these words passed my lips, I wanted to take them back... a terrible mistake... taramount to applauding Anderson when he gets Watson LBW. I gave myself an 'uppercut' and a 'Chinese burn' and will wash my mouth out with soap before going to bed. My fear is that I may repeat the offence... because the mountains really are beautiful... in a sissy, fairytale sort of way... I mean... not like our blue horizons and jewel seas... 'beauty and terror' is what I like.
In my own defence, I want you to put yourself in my position. Without breaking breath, we were carried along a moving walkway... onto a chairlift... then onto a cable trolley... transporting us 4 klms... and lifting us 1,300 metres in altitude. It's easy to get impressed by the infrastructure at this (out of season) ski resort. Imagine you are standing in a meadow iridescent with yellows, reds, whites and blues of wild flowers. The meadow fell gently away to the village of St Christina... 1,000 metres below. To your left your gaze is captured by the majestic peaks of Gran Olda 300 metres above you. As you look around the adjoining range of mountains, you see the rugged 300 metres drop of the Furcela Forces De Steles range into the valley. The cliff face shows off the full range of colours of the calcitrean stone that sparkles in the morning sunshine. At the tree line, the conifers provide a rich dark green that contrasts with the golden meadow. You can gaze in any direction and see snow-peaked mountains on the horizon.
Weekender huts are sprinkled through the meadow... most of them occupied... most of the occupants out mowing their pasture... raking it up and providing the grass to the farmer with agistment rights to the land. Cows and horses graze contentedly... preferring to stay close to the gurgling mountain streams.
The sun shines down on you... coffee consumed a few minutes ago leaves you feeling a sense of well being.
Now I know I shouldn't have made comparisons with Australian beauty... I plead guilty as charged. All I ask is that before being too critical, you take into account the mitigating circumstances.
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