F4d72477-e94f-4f33-99d2-d13fb495a1a9.jpeg

As Lumi walked, the world narrowed into a rhythmic climb. To her left, the glowing windows of a small bistro spilled the scent of roasted coffee and cardamon into the crisp air. To her right, a cyclist stood up on his pedals, lungs burning as he fought the incline.

The climb was over. She turned toward the church, the stone tower now glowing under the floodlights, and felt, for the first time all day, like she was finally home. Expand map Photo Landmarks Neighborhood F4D72477-E94F-4F33-99D2-D13FB495A1A9.jpeg

There is a local legend that the hill was designed this way so that by the time you reach the heavy wooden doors of the church, you have left your breath—and your worries—somewhere back at the bottom. As Lumi walked, the world narrowed into a rhythmic climb