Somehow I knew the deal I made early in the day would take me to new heights. At my next stop, I have a one track mind and I have no plans to be derailed.
Engine, Engine No. 9 on The Peak Tram Station line … Can I get a whoo, whoo, Can I get a whaa, whaa!
As this train leaves the station it has only one ultimate destination in mind and it has not been a secret since the late 1800's.
Soon after passing under a highway, glimpses of the buildings that line the fragrant harbor below becomes nicely framed from my window view.
Disembarking from the train, I ascend a few more hundred feet, show a ticket then make a final summit with the help of an escalator.
A gentle wind is stirring the fresh air and long gone are the rain clouds that covered the city earlier this morning. Under blue skies sprinkled with white clouds, I can see for miles and miles in all directions.
I am glad this place is no secret because I would hate to have to leave here carrying a cute little pink bag.