The place itself is very beautiful, but it didn’t work for us. Maybe someone thinks that travel is constant unbridled fun and joy, but of course that’s not the case. There are bad cities, or maybe your mood just somehow sours on its own and you can’t even properly explain what happened, and everything around you just stops being enjoyable for a while. That’s normal, that’s always how it is — you just have to wait it out, get through it. Not dwell on it and understand that joy simply cannot be constant. And it’s not even that things are bad or sad, it’s just somehow nothing at all. It doesn’t grab you.
But soon a new day will come. And there will be a new different city, better or worse. And in general, everything in this world is so subjective that right now it’s good for you here, but if even the slightest changes in your mood happen, then your perception changes dramatically right away too. And in the very same place it can be much worse or much better.
And there are so many factors influencing me, my mood, Wolfy’s mood. And we’re together, and I don’t know how to have fun when he isn’t in the mood. In short, there are a ton of nuances. And the conclusion is one — the caves, though good in theory, didn’t move us.
After the caves we went to the lake; people used to wash clothes here. We returned home by another little street. There were little wild boars running around there, searching for food in the trash. There was also a tied-up goat and a cute blue house with a staircase up to the roof.