Over the water, looming like giants are steep mountains, laced with trees and shrubbery. Between the hills and the crystal surface are colorful houses, bustled together on the uneven surface like a flock of mountain sheep. From the bottom of the sea erupt bleak gray cliffs, a barrier against the ferocious tides. In the mountainside is the road, cut into the side of the surface at a seemingly impossible angle. Inside the town square, there is a market, cries of buyers and sellers wafting out of the arrayed stalls and into the cool sea air. Down from the center of the town winds a path, leading to the ocean. At the edge of the water are the people of the town, soaking in the sunshine and frolicking in the refreshing aqua. Along the coast from them is the marina, cluttered with luxury yachts and boats. Under the town square is a tunnel, a direct route to the beautiful caverns under the island. Above the scene, the glaring Mediterranean sun sits in the blue sky, casting its burning gaze over the bustling township like God himself.