Patrick Leigh Fermor's Words of Mercury.
Paddy Leigh Fermor en route to Malana. `Creepers looped the boughs and ended in tumbling mops, there was falling water and moss and maidenhair ferns in the clefts, and grey, curdled, orange and sulphur-coloured lichens crusted tall buttresses of stone....bamboos soared and spread in green fireworks among rhododendrons the height and thickness of ancient oaks; their branches were heavy with leaves,... ragged with Spanish moss and festooned with a score of parasites.... all at once the ravine filled with noise as the river rushed through the polished troughs, separating around boulders, rising in fans of spray and then joining again to roatate in in deep slow pools.`
That kinda leaves the rest of us travel writers falling back on this descriptive phrase: I went to a pretty place.
That kinda leaves the rest of us travel writers falling back on this descriptive phrase: I went to a pretty place.