The quaint bungalow in the hills, the family, the dog, stolen white rum, rain in the mountains and conversations in a star-lit garden.
The cottage in the middle of nowhere, hill paths and adda as the sun goes down beyond the mountains, and the lights come on.
The mist slowly descending from the mountaintops, hypnotic silence, the blue café and steaming glasses of ginger lemon honey.
The lake palace glittering at the centre of an expanse of water, the city lighting up in the distance, the fireworks, good whiskey and good company.
I’ve fallen in love with getaways. Thank you.