The thought of Fraser’s Hill had lingered for years, like a half-finished dream.
I have imagined the winding road draped in jungle mist, the scent of damp earth after the rain and the distant call of hornbills echoing through the canopy.
The thought of Fraser’s Hill had lingered for years, like a half-finished dream.
I have imagined the winding road draped in jungle mist, the scent of damp earth after the rain and the distant call of hornbills echoing through the canopy.