One of the best things about having time, is taking your time. No need to power through everything El Valle has to offer, straight away. So for two weeks, on my way to and from town, I’ve bypassed the entrance to a path in the jungle just five minutes from the casa.

The trail is called El Pastoreo –  Google translates this as “grazing” but I figure it’s the pasture. I did not research it online, or ask anyone else about it. I went to see what there is to see.

Pastoreo got scrambly right quick. Plant your feet on slimy brown leaves, grab a vine or branch, step up, repeat. And then, out of the shadowy vegetation, you emerge onto a sunlit grassland. The trail, barely a foot wide, got steeper still and I gulped humid O2 until I reached the top of the ridge.

Cloud armadas gathered for battle in the blue sky. Around and opposite, dense, disorderly green cliffs. Below, scattered among the trees and fields, the town’s orange clay roof tiled roofs.

I sat, sweated and listened. Wind shoving the long blades of grass. Caustic jabber of wild parakeets, buzz of cicadas, chirp of frogs. From the fincas in the valley, a zealous rooster worked overtime along with the gardeners and their weedwhackers.