Farida wanted to visit a mountain hut. She saw a photo of it online. It looked warm and beautiful. She was very excited. She packed her bag the night before. She put in a summer dress, sandals, and a small bag. She also packed sunglasses and a thin scarf. She did not pack a coat. She did not pack boots. She thought the mountain was not very high. She looked at the photo again. The hut had flowers outside. It looked like a warm, sunny day. Farida smiled and went to bed. The next morning, Farida took a bus to the mountain. The bus went up and up. Farida looked out of the window. The trees got smaller.

The sky got gray. She felt cold on the bus. She arrived at the mountain hut. She got off the bus. The wind was very strong. There was snow on the ground. Farida looked at her sandals. She looked at her summer dress. She was very cold. Her hands were red. A man came out of the hut. He looked at Farida. He looked very surprised. "Are you okay?" he said. "I am very cold!" said Farida. The man's name was Tomas. He worked at the hut. He brought Farida inside.

The hut was warm. There was a big fire. Tomas gave her a thick jumper and some warm socks. "Thank you," said Farida. "You are very kind." She sat near the fire. She drank hot tea. She felt better slowly. Other people in the hut looked at her dress and smiled. Farida laughed too. "I did not check the weather!" she said. "Next time, I will bring a coat!" Tomas laughed. "Yes," he said. "The mountain is always cold." Farida looked out of the window at the snow. She was warm now. She was happy. It was a good day.

Farida had been planning her trip to the mountain hut for several weeks, and she could barely contain her excitement. She had seen photographs online showing the hut surrounded by wildflowers, with sunlight streaming across a green valley. Based on those images, she had packed a light summer dress, strappy sandals, and a thin cotton scarf. It never occurred to her to check the forecast, and she assumed the mountains would be no colder than the town where she lived. On the evening before her departure, she set her bag by the door, feeling confident that she had everything she needed. The journey up the mountain began pleasantly enough, but as the bus climbed higher, the sky darkened and the temperature dropped sharply. By the time Farida stepped off the bus and onto the mountain path, a bitter wind was cutting straight through her dress, and she could see patches of gray snow clinging to the rocks around her.

Her sandals were completely useless on the icy ground, and her fingers had already turned red. A worker named Tomas was sweeping the hut's entrance when he noticed her. He stopped and stared, clearly struggling to understand what he was seeing. "Are you alright?" he asked carefully. "Not really," she admitted, her teeth chattering. "I think I made a mistake with my outfit." Tomas ushered Farida inside without another word, where a wood-burning stove filled the small room with wonderful warmth.

He disappeared briefly and returned with a heavy woollen jumper, thick socks, and a pair of old boots that were only slightly too big. As she changed and curled up near the stove with a mug of tea, the other guests glanced at her sandals drying on the floor and exchanged amused smiles. Farida caught their looks and laughed openly. "I saw a photo with flowers," she explained, gesturing at the window where snowflakes were falling steadily. "I thought it would be warm." Tomas shook his head with a grin. "The mountain always has the last word," he said. Farida wrapped her hands around the warm mug, grateful and a little embarrassed, but already certain that this was a trip she would never forget.