Just across the Vltava river from my house is a hill with Celtic ruins. A train track runs its rusty course along the foot of the little mountain and bikers and hikers pilgrim to the stop for the beautiful view of Zbraslav and the surrounding valleys. Early this spring I made the trip myself, armed with a camera, my Bible, and a picnic lunch. Even getting lost halfway up – because, of course I got lost – was a pleasant enough adventure and I came off the hill with a clearer mind, a fuller stomach and a lighter heart.