Once upon a time, we went to Estonia. We stayed in a little hotel at the bottom of a hill. The receptionist seemed to (on a daily basis) respond to our request for directions with a stern ‘Up the hill, down the hill’. We figured that either she spoke no other English, or that our hotel was the only thing on our side of the hill. Everyday, we climbed the hill, and then descended the other side to our destination. Up The Hill, Down The Hill, just as she promised.

Twinkle clearly remembers this trip, and has become obsessed with drawing hills. Oddly enough, I don’t remember there ever being anything actually on the top of the hill in Estonia as Twinkle suggests here, but maybe I’m wrong. She’s drawing another hill right now.