Walking around in the fog can be deeply unsettling. It can also be fascinating, calming, melancholic, exciting, poetic, scary or sad. The fog puts a blank screen up and all you see is your own brain reflected back to you from the thick curtain. So how you feel in the fog depends entirely on you. Unless there is an actual murderer chasing you, then it really isn’t your fault that you are scared.
But there was no murderer when I took the ski lift up the mountain and wound up swallowed by the fog. So I felt fascinated and tried taking as many pictures as I could, because it’s not often that I see such thick fog in such a (presumably) beautiful place.
The empty amusement park and the random Jesus statue made the whole experience even more surreal. I began dreaming of renting a hut somewhere in the middle of it all and writing my book in peace with nothing from the outside world coming through the mist to distract me.
Later, when I was sitting on the open lift, getting pelted by the rain with nowhere to hide, all I dreamt of was being dry. Life changes your priorities like that.