-- but this stylish Dutchy takes positively forever to get herself ready in the morning.
I'm a knitter. I often find myself gauging the timeliness of other people by the amount of hats I can knit whilst waiting for them.
I couldn't knit any hats yesterday, but that's only because I'm plumb out of yarn. Instead, I roughly planned this summer's entire hitchhiking adventure.
Hitchhiking adventure 2014!
(Ferry from Patras to Trieste on July 30th)
Trieste to Portogruaro = 94 km
Portogruaro to Padua = 107 km
Padua to Verona = 83 km
Verona to Modena = 104 km
Modena to Parma = 58 km
Parma to La Spezia = 119 km
La Spezia to Genoa = 102 km
Genoa to Albenga = 94 km
Albenga to Sospel = 102 km
Sospel to Isola = 95 km
Isola to Savines le Lac = 104 km
Savines le Lac to Grenoble = 130 km
Grenoble to Chambery = 60 km
Chambery to Geneva = 87 km
Geneva to Bulle = 117 km
Bulle to Berne = 52 km
Berne to Entlebuch = 62 km
Entlebuch to Einsiedeln = 83 km
Einsiedeln to Wartau = 82 km
Wartau to Sluderno = 134 km
Sluderno to Bolzano = 80 km
Bolzano to Belluno = 123 km
Belluno to Tolmezzo = 105 km
Tolmezzo to Tolmin = 80 km
Tolmin to Skofja Loka = 68 km
Skofja Loka to Klagenfurt = 75 km
Klagenfurt to Wolfsburg = 65 km
Wolfsburg to Graz = 75 km
Graz to murzzuschlag = 95 km
Murzzuschlag to Vienna = 108 km
Vienna to Znojmo = 90 km
Znojmo to Humpolec = 107 km
Humpolec to Prague = 100 km
Prague to Teplice = 90 km
Teplice to Dresden = 70 km
Dresden to Lubben = 120 km
Lubben to Berlin = 85 km
Berlin to Stendal = 125 km
Stendal to Wolfsburg = 90 km
Wolfsburg to Hanover = 90 km
Hanover to Osnabruck = 137 km
Osnabruck to Enschede = 90 km
Enschede to Apeldoorn = 90 km
Epeldoorn to Amsterdam = 90 km
It was ten o'clock and the weather was gorgeous when my meticulous Dutch visitor announced that she was ready.
"Are you sure?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, man."
"Okay," I put down my laptop. "Then I'll start getting ready."
I brushed my teeth, popped in my contacts, slathered on some deodorant and pulled on my pants.
Then I researched bus tickets from Denver to Mexico city while I waited for Maud to finish brushing her teeth and packing her bag.
Everyone needs something different out of a vacation. Some people need excitement and loads of activity. Other people need to just take it easy. Sleep in. Blow-dry their hair.
Just before we were about to leave, Maud received a phone call and erupted into streams of stressed out Dutch as she paced in front of the living room window.
I sat down on the piano bench and tried to hide my impatience.
Really? my forehead furrowed as the conversation continued. And continued. And continued. Some people just need more time. I folded my hands on top of my waterproof black pants. This is her vacation. I can wait.
"That was my dad," Maud hung up the phone. "My cat died. I knew I shouldn't have left him at home."
"Shit, I'm so sorry," I unfolded my hands and rushed to give her a hug.
"I knew it would happen. He looked at me before I left and told me."
"You couldn't have known."
"But I did know."
"I'm so sorry, Maud. Is there anything I can do?"
There wasn't. I hugged her again and then we (finally) set out for our walk.
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| Maud. She was such a wonderful sport for carrying on in spite of the morning's distressing news. |
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| Spring has officially arrived in North Devon. Lambs and crocuses and daffodils are everywhere. |
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| Yes. I take pictures of sheep. Don't judge. |
"We're really lucky the weather has been so good," I mused over cheese. "Thank god it isn't what it was yesterday."
I should not have said that. I really, really should have just kept my mouth shut.
A wave of mist came up from the ocean. A dark cloud fomented overhead.
And it started to pour.
My waterproof pants kept me nice and dry. I wore my backpack underneath my XXL waterproof jacket so that I looked like a mixture of Quasimodo and a baboon (the red fabric peeked out in the appropriate, inappropriate place). I felt prepared for England.
I looked over at Maud. Her sexy jeans were soaked. Her beautifully done hair was ruined and mascara was running down her face.
I felt like an absolute ass for thinking a quick, triumphant, serves you right for taking so damn long.
Bourget, her cat just died.
The rain brazenly carried on, determined to thwart all the intrepid walkers in Devonshire.
But we carried on through the brazen rain, stumbling into Ilfracombe at about one o'clock.
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| Statue of "Verity". A pregnant woman with half of her fetus and half of her face exposed. |
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| Ilfracombe! |
We wanted two things from Ilfracombe. A hot coffee and a cold cider. We walked up the High Street in search of a warm, friendly café and a dirty, cheap pub.
I spotted a yarn shop that offered coffee and immediately felt drawn towards its delightful quirkiness.
Maybe it's because I could have knitted a hat this morning, had I the yarn... Argh! Why are you being so nasty, Bourget? Her. Cat. Just. DIED.
Halfway through her cappuccino, Maud received another phone call.
I hope her other cat hasn't gone and died.
I sipped my latte as she chatted in the back. We'd happened to arrive at the yarn shop just in time for the knitting club, so I struck up a conversation with the three women who were knitting jumpers and comparing the tension of their stitches.
These are the kinds of things I feel like I'm missing out on. I want to be a part of a knitting club. I could knit for pleasure and not because I'm feeling passive-aggressive. Wasn't there that place in Brighton called, "stitch and bitch"? I could totally do that.
Maud returned from her phone call a few minutes later.
"That was my brother," she announced in her Dutch/South African accent. "My niece was just born."
"Whoa," I sat back in my chair, feeling shocked and absorbing every loop of her roller-coaster ride. "That's great. Did everything go okay?"
"Yeah, it was fine, man. Weird day though, hey?"
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| Dear Maud, I am thrilled to death whenever you visit me. Thanks for putting up with my impatient, SUPER-EFFICIENT self and for always bringing me chocolate. You're the best. Love, Aimee |
Coffee finished, baby born and feeling moderately warm, we moseyed out and on to find our pub. George and the Dragon looked sufficiently cheap and dirty (Maud was awkwardly hit on by an elderly man as soon as we entered), so we sat down in the empty corner of the empty room and drank half-pints of Thatcher's while we read each others fortunes on cards I'd filched from Harriet's bookshelf.
Oddly enough, we weren't enthusiastic about a three hour slog back to Combe Martin. We considered hitching, but as we were even less enthusiastic about standing outside in the mizzling rain, we decided to just hop on the four o'clock bus.
The four o'clock bus arrived at three fifty-five. We chased it to the stoplight and motioned for the bus driver to open the door, but she patently ignored us and continued on. I threw up my arms and laughed.
"How funny! Now we'll have to hitch. Let's try for an hour and if we don't get a ride, we can always catch the next bus."
We walked down the road out of town, found a place where cars could pull over, and gamely stuck out our thumbs.
"We're not going to get a ride," Maud said after the 20th car had zoomed past.
"Why not?"
"We don't have a sign."
"But we're not scary people. Maybe we're just not in a good place... let's walk further down the road. It's not like we have anything better to do.
300 meters further on, we stuck out our thumbs. Five minutes later, a small black car put on its emergency blinkers and slowed to a stop just in front of us.
"Is he stopping for us?" I couldn't quite believe our luck, but rushed to the car regardless. I opened the passenger door and peeped inside.
"Hello!"
"Hiya, I'm only going to Combe Martin," the friendly old man cautioned.
"That's where we're going! We walked here this morning, got absolutely soaked and weren't too keen on walking back. Can I sit in the front with you?"
"Sure, climb in."
The friendly old man turned out to be a retired teacher named Bob. He showed me his favorite pub on the way back to town and suggested that I stop by for a Sunday roast lunch. He dropped us off at the beginning of Combe Martin's High Street and wished us a pleasant evening.
That was so much better than taking the bus. I can't wait to hitchhike through Europe with Tessa. I want to meet all the Bobs.
I remember in Istanbul you were so happy that I was a morning person too! We would be well into our touring by 10:00. And it was a good way to beat the afternoon tendency to rain. I miss you and our good time. Good news for Jessie this week. She got a job offer from the IT department at Hilltop. She has been working with them on some of their software programs that help them track medications and such for her elderly clients and had impressed them so much that they decided they wanted to hire her. The job comes with a 30% raise and a more consistent schedule too (although she doesn't know what that schedule will be). I think she has struggled with her job, while Janet has had lots of lucky breaks and successes with her job, so I think we are all gratified that she is getting the recognition she deserves. My daffodils are blooming, and we are having a cool rainy spell. Tomorrow we go up for what is probably the last skiing at Powderhorn (at least for me). And daylight savings time starts tomorrow. All good things. Take care. Cathy
ReplyDeleteI miss you! I'm happy to hear about Jessie -- that must be such a relief for her. I wish I could see your daffodils. I also wish you could be here to see the daffodils of Combe Martin with me.
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