The sandy dust caught my abaya as we climbed the rocky slope. Bruised knees and bloody knuckles meant nothing. The abaya was of course only worn for fashionable causes. It catches the wind dramatically and “it makes me feel less like a tourist” K. added. It was aesthetic purposes. The black in contrast with the yellow rocks and blue-grey sky. I stood on the ledge and screamed. The echo carried by the wind. “I like to scream into the vast nothingness” I thought and the thought hit me that it was a long way down. I dangled a leg out of curiosity with an overwhelming fear of height creeping up my spine. We skipped back down, the feeling that we had conquered this magnificent place–what truly felt like the edge of the world.