While I was attending a vespers concert at New College last week, in honor of the great Italian composer Palestrina, it struck me anew how the chapel architect had carved the Gospel into the very stones.

While I was attending a vespers concert at New College last week, in honor of the great Italian composer Palestrina, it struck me anew how the chapel architect had carved the Gospel into the very stones.
Yes, I thought to myself, gazing from rows of wooden-sided homes to the sheer blue drop below. This is where I would retire.
The tourism office had patiently instructed me the day before in the route for a morning hike.
I would tackle a fraction of the marked trail, which spanned the length of the country, for the intrepid and committed. My jaunt would cover a single leg, from the town center up into the mountains.
Forests, views, something of everything, he promised me.
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