The temperature wasn’t too high but the trek up the steep rocky path did its job in making my forehead drip in sweat. The green bush on the sides of the path sounded like a bunch of birds, cicadas and other unknown creatures joining forces to sing at the top of their little lungs. (...). We had just passed a local man walking in his flip-flops with a basket full of wood strapped to his forehead. He wasn’t anywhere near as sweaty as we were...