March 26, 2017
This story will be much better told if I don’t relate the outcome at the beginning.
It began with a campsite.
And what campsite it was! A rolling field of green tumbled with mottled stones stretched a long way down to the mud-slicked rocks at the water’s edge. Gently lapping waves washed over the edge where the land met the sea. All around us stretched the waters of the fjords, encircled by towering hills that rose up into the clouds. From time to time the clouds would stretch eager fingers of mist down into the trees, changing the shapes of the hillsides. In the distance across the bay, the stove pipes of Hornopiren sent plumes of smoke up into the air.
Continue reading the story at The Gourmet Family website.
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