Репкина Мария Михайловна : другие произведения.

Курсовая на тему "Путевые заметки"

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  • Аннотация:
    Это моя курсовая, оценку я пока что не получила, но как будет, так сразу.
    Задание: написать о путешествии/походе где вы присутсвовали лично.
    Здесь я описываю как мы ходили к каньону "Чешская Америка"... предупреждаю - курсовая на английском и переводить я ее не собираюсь.
  Travel writing coursework
  
  When I finally got outside of my flat, I was running late to meet everyone at Smichovske Nadrazy. I ran towards the metro, as quick as I could. I could see tall blocks of flats, surrounding me, spoiling the view of the park on the southern hill. Two flat blocks right in front of it, have been started to be built in January 2003, but has been finished only recently. All this time there was dust all over the place and on Saturday mornings you couldn"t really get a good sleep because of all the noise.
  The trees next to the sidewalk started to grow their leaves again and the bushes on the other side were blooming bright yellow - my favorite colour. When you"d look at grass, you could clearly see that it had two shades: the paler one was the grass which had survived winter and the one of brighter colour, was the fresh grass which has only grown recently.
  In the metro I took out my CD player and a book, they helped me to forget about the bare stony walls, which made everything seems so far from our mother-nature and closer to the destructive modern industry.
  On the train station I found out, that there are only ten people coming: five teachers and five students. At least it"s more than the first time, when there were only two students out of six people.
  We took a train and went out on the platform of the train station near Karlstein. We walked across the bridge, all the way through the city and then turned north-west. As we were walking up the hill, I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed the fresh air and the smell of spring. It strange, but every season has its own unique smell. You cannot describe it; you just know it is there.
  As I opened my eyes, I looked around and saw how these surroundings are different from the ones in the city. Leaves and grass had a very bright, happier shade of green, then the ones in the city. Bushes and trees weren"t blooming only yellow, but also white and magenta. If in the city the best flower you will be able to find, outside a flower shop, is a dandelion, then here you could see a range of all sorts of them. I have managed to recognize only marguerites.
  The slope became even steeper, so when I saw a relatively long stick under one of the trees, I picked it up and used as a staff on the way. With the staff, the road seemed to be much easier to overcome. At some point on our way I have heard somebody say "Hey, we are like the fellowship of the ring!" and I compared myself to Legolas, who stole the staff from Gandalf. It was really fun to imagine that we are actually in Middle Earth, that we have Gollum crawling behind and there are orcs hiding behind "that great rock other there". As we crossed a concrete road, it instantly spoilt the illusion I have created inside my mind.
  All the students including me started playing a rhyme game. By the point when the Russian students had finished rhyming a story about mountains and tomatoes in Russian, we have reached, what Czech people call, Mexico. It was a canyon with a small dirty pond at the bottom. On it"s walls there were several caves which were probably created using dynamite. Somebody made a joke that those were actually troll caves and I need to admit they really looked alike. As I looked down I made a decision, that if I will decide to commit suicide, it will be really beautiful and it will happen at that very spot.
  When we followed the path further, it has gone upwards almost vertically, so everyone had a problem with getting up. One of the teachers stood at the top, helping other to get up, but I got up absolutely by myself. For Freya"s sake, women are not as weak, as men want them to see!
   We followed the road ones again and I saw a hill of earth and gravel. I ran forwards, got to the top of it and I lost my speech when I saw the view.
   I stood on a hill, which was fluently turning into a mount with a break, right above a great, by its size and beauty, canyon. It had a pond on the bottom just like Mexico, but this pond was covering almost the whole base of the canyon and the water had a clear indigo shade. You could see the banks and the bottom of the pond, but at some places it was too deep to see it. The walls of the canyon consisted of silver-blue rock, which had made the scenery almost illusory.
   And then, the sun came out of the clouds and shone on the canyon beneath. It seemed like the canyon is slowly taking off a widow"s veil, which it wore in mourning for all those people who died there, of hard work, exhaustion and diseases, and is smiling it me. As the sun rays hit the water, it became of a lighter shade of blue and glittered with millions of little sparks.
   I have laughed and spread my hands, as if hugging the world around me. Wind was playing with my hair. I was alive.
  
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