The tidal wave

I will never forget the day that changed my life. I was 11 and heedless, cycling through my small hometown with a boy that I'd met just a day ago. He was foreign to this place, spoke funny Bulgarian and cared about nothing. We climbed up the stadium grandstand roof and unmounted a few of the light bulbs. I stood up right, there on the highest point I had ever been to, shaking and trembling, eaten by a tickling vertigo rush. I stood still and admired the landscape. Parts of the hilly Sacar mountain, parts of the conifer forest, the small vine yards and all of this beauty defiled by a giant Christian cross. At this moment precisely is when I realized that I am in for a long and eventful journey.