Walking on the dusty road I approach monumental, but neglected, and as time will reveal, also dysfunctional gate. There, I jump over a small short wall, and after overcoming short anxiety I dare to go inside. I slowly begin to see divine scenery. Lot of palm trees, aromatic almonds, a mixture of dried flowers, which are quickly replaced by new ones. Tiny insects and specific climate. Immediately, I put down my rucksack, shirt and, finally, my shoes. Quietness of the breathing forest brings me pleasure and assurance that I may get comfortable. I imitate bird sounds, so that I soon realise, that I haven´t pronounced a sentence for a couple of days. I don´t miss it. I don´t wait for a visit. Ultimate? Where is my famous pocket machete from a market for 2 pesos? I crawl on my four through the huge tangled branches of a short dark bush. I imitate movement of a tree, as it was growing, in order to sling out of the branches. I´m done. I am barefoot, dirty and in awe. Inside of this never-ending jungle, there stands a masonry cold mansion.
