The sunrise, is spectacular from the Horses Park. The sun seems to peek through the cloudless sky to burn the buildings in the background, and the horses I have to admit, look simply majestic. I run up and down the stairs, around the fountains in each corner of the park; I run along a canopied trail that leads to somewhere presidential because it's blocked by a KGB-wannabe car with no driver, past the sleeping watchmen who, again I don't photograph, past the cleaning ladies already sweeping the grounds with their miniscule brooms, past some uniformed guards who blow their mean whistles as I jog by, past the fragrant pots of jazmine...So close to Afghanistan, I think. So close to death, to destruction, to sadness. So close to it all, yet so safe. I feel safe, so I blast "Herr Mannelig" a song by In Extremo, a German medieval punk band and make another round.