Humour is most convincing and most effective when it is unsought, when it comes to us like an unexpected guest. When we discover humour in the daily scenarios of our lives, if something in the cosmic arrangement of them suddenly strikes us as amusing, funny or even hilarious, it makes us feel that life is more than merely chance circumstances, but an ever-changing, meticulously crafted work of art designed by a Master Architect. That this Architect is not bereft of a keen sense of humour is something we soon discover, too. The story below, experienced by two people I know personally, is one of the many testimonies to life's inherent sense of humour.
Two friends were backpacking in Tenerife, one of the Canary Islands south of Spain. They were enjoying the beautiful weather, even in mid-January, and the gorgeous scenery on their various hiking trips through the rugged, mountainous countryside. There is a famous mountain on Tenerife called Mount Teide, which with an altitude of 3,700 metres (12,000 feet), is Spain's highest mountain. Mount Teide offered a hiking opportunity the two friends did not want to miss. However, a special permit was needed to be allowed on the mountain and bureaucracy would have it that this permit could only be obtained in the capital, many miles away. Since their longing for the view from the top of the mountain was persistent and strong and they did not want to waste an entire day travelling back and forth for the permit, they decided to forego the civil servants and conquer the mountain first thing tomorrow morning, before the mountain guards arrived. Love of nature triumphed over civil obedience.
On the following morning just before sunrise they left their hut, which was located near the top of the mountain, and began following the trail up the mountain. It was a taxing climb. But the glorious summit rewarded their early morning efforts with a stunning and breathtaking view. They drank in nature's beauty and splendour, revealed by the golden sunrise, and quietly came back down before anyone noticed. The remainder of the day - more than a remainder in fact since the day had just started - was spent hiking around the mountainous area, climbing boulders and a few minor peaks and logging a fair number of miles before they got back to their hut. By that time the trail up Mount Teide had already closed and a few mountain rangers were standing alone in the vast countryside, enjoying evening's beckoning hand at the end of their working day. The two hiker-friends went up to them. One of the friends, who spoke fluent Spanish, was curious to know why a permit was needed to climb Teide and why it was so inconveniently unobtainable right here at the foot of the mountain. The rangers kindly explained that the preservation and protection of the mountain were the cause for having the permit and not wanting to have too many people climbing it the reason for having it many miles away in the island's capital. People were welcome, but not truckloads at a time. The hiker-friend pulled a sad and disappointed face - hiding his glee at having cleverly surpassed governmental regulations that very morning - murmured a "too bad, but all right, I understand" and said goodbye.
Two friends were backpacking in Tenerife, one of the Canary Islands south of Spain. They were enjoying the beautiful weather, even in mid-January, and the gorgeous scenery on their various hiking trips through the rugged, mountainous countryside. There is a famous mountain on Tenerife called Mount Teide, which with an altitude of 3,700 metres (12,000 feet), is Spain's highest mountain. Mount Teide offered a hiking opportunity the two friends did not want to miss. However, a special permit was needed to be allowed on the mountain and bureaucracy would have it that this permit could only be obtained in the capital, many miles away. Since their longing for the view from the top of the mountain was persistent and strong and they did not want to waste an entire day travelling back and forth for the permit, they decided to forego the civil servants and conquer the mountain first thing tomorrow morning, before the mountain guards arrived. Love of nature triumphed over civil obedience.
On the following morning just before sunrise they left their hut, which was located near the top of the mountain, and began following the trail up the mountain. It was a taxing climb. But the glorious summit rewarded their early morning efforts with a stunning and breathtaking view. They drank in nature's beauty and splendour, revealed by the golden sunrise, and quietly came back down before anyone noticed. The remainder of the day - more than a remainder in fact since the day had just started - was spent hiking around the mountainous area, climbing boulders and a few minor peaks and logging a fair number of miles before they got back to their hut. By that time the trail up Mount Teide had already closed and a few mountain rangers were standing alone in the vast countryside, enjoying evening's beckoning hand at the end of their working day. The two hiker-friends went up to them. One of the friends, who spoke fluent Spanish, was curious to know why a permit was needed to climb Teide and why it was so inconveniently unobtainable right here at the foot of the mountain. The rangers kindly explained that the preservation and protection of the mountain were the cause for having the permit and not wanting to have too many people climbing it the reason for having it many miles away in the island's capital. People were welcome, but not truckloads at a time. The hiker-friend pulled a sad and disappointed face - hiding his glee at having cleverly surpassed governmental regulations that very morning - murmured a "too bad, but all right, I understand" and said goodbye.