And after taking the wrong bus, taking its wrong turns, we end up soaked and walking in the rain… along narrow paths that curl and swirl around steep slopes. Here… upon this random path… the scent of woods carried on rain, and the musk of woodfire. And the running of water over rocks from the stream below, as well as birdsong. And the trees lining the steep falls and rises of the valley. And then suddenly within them, randomly, solitary and in solace on the slope – this charming house. We walk along, find nothing in particular and then turn back. And I realize yet again that wrong turns are the best moves – because they are the only way to discover the completely unexpected.