The sun rises over the mountains in Interlaken. It is like someone opening up a gift. With each tear and turn of the paper, a priceless gift is revealed. Interlaken feels like landscape overload. The massive mountains surround the little town with small shops, cafes, and a few hostels, bringing a feeling of comfort and security to the area. It was September and the weather was cold, but not cold enough for the accumulation of snow. Thus, the Alps looked dark green from the infinite number of pine trees. Among these pine trees and looking up above, paragliders glided down 5,000-6,000 feet. They swayed back and forth with ease and grace. The gliders seemed to be floating rather than gliding. From ground level, the Alps formed a circle around Interlaken. The Alps were so massive that
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