Our taxi, packed with sun-craving Chicagoans, slowly approached a small cove along the coast of the Mediterranean. "This is as far as I can go", informed the taxi driver. We'd been looking for the beach, but all that lied ahead of us were sprawling mountain tops and a sand-less coast.
We asked someone for the path toward the beach we'd traveled to find. Naturally, he directed us toward the mountain. We looked at each other as if to say "are we sure were about to do this?". In a silent agreement, we began to make our way toward the mountain.
For several minutes, we scaled the side of the mountain, eventually reaching a point where the path took a steeper incline. At this point, we began to lose some of our classmates. The rest of us gripped our beer for dear life as we scaled the mountain in broken flip flops.
About an hour passed before we reached the top of the mountain. We looked around, in search of this mysterious beach. Mollie pointed in the distance. "There, I see it". We all let out a sigh of relief. It took us a few more steps before realizing that it was not actually a beach, but rather a pile of rocks in the distance. We'd all somehow seen the same mirage.
Thankfully, the path soon reached the second mountain, between which a small beach lied. Here lied a small beach, surrounded by aloe plants and cacti. I'd never seen anything more lovely. Soon, we'd all forgotten about our callused feet.
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