June 22, 2016
An emotional rollercoaster ride
Dear reader, I would like to misuse you. To vent some steam. The past week I encountered an emotional rollercoaster ride. What has happened? Last week Jeroen returned to Holland to coach trainings. I stayed behind in Gravito to work one more week as a volunteer in the kitchen. Both of us enjoyed our ‘own time’. Even more we looked forward to our romantic reunion in Porto, last Monday evening.
Crash!
My plan was to drive into Porto that morning for some sightseeing first. Oh how daring and free I felt, alone in the camper. Within a second I transform however, to the ‘helpless female’ when I crash into a concrete post with the bumper and rear-light. How stupid do I feel! My head immediately fills up with self-blame. When I start driving into town again I can relativize. One rear-light still works J. I am completely stoked when, after an hour of manoeuvring the crowded and narrow streets, I believe to have found the perfect parking space. Close to the centre.
Butterflies and dead moths
At night, on a romantic terrace we celebrate our lives with a glass of old port. The butterflies flutter happily when we share our stories. The butterflies turn into dead moths when we return to the camper. Broken in! A thief had discovered that I had not locked the kitchen window. I cannot even find the words to describe the small-smaller-smallest feeling at that moment. How empty-headed of me! After some cursing from the both of us, a sigh of relief follows quickly. We do not miss anything (we carry all valuables on us at all times, luckily). Get away here quickly. Out of the city. This night we sleep at a well-lit 24-hour restaurant along the highway. Parked in the middle of the trucks. There we feel safe again.
Relief
The next morning we drive towards the mountainous area Serra da Estrela in Portugal. Besides the ‘nothing stolen’ and ‘no damage’ relief, I still feel useless all day. Can’t I even travel by myself for one day? We are both tired and tense. On arrival at the campsite (no wild camping for us for a while) the Dutch owner shows us three folders with trails that can be walked in the surrounding area. We dive into those together. Soon everything is ‘all right’ again.
Relaxing scene
Well-rested we start the Wednesday morning with a short trail. My bruised toe appears to have healed. Hallélujaaaaa. Singing we follow the paths. After a refreshing dive into a mountain river, Floyd starts to walk with a limp. In a village we stop to give Floyd a rest. A nice moment for a cup of coffee on the relaxing town square, where a lot of old men, leaning on their canes, contemplate their lives (at least that is what I think). What a relaxing scene.
Mother-and-father-worrying
This relaxed feeling is soon replaced by a sort of ‘mother-and-father-worrying’. However we try to make Floyd get up. He won’t move a muscle. Waiting for a taxi to drive us to the veterinarian, the old men scare us with tall stories of a poisonous biting creature. Oh no! Our hearts skip a beat. Not until 1.5 hours of examination the vet realises that he has a thorn, of about 6 centimetres, in his paw. This as well ended positively. Floyd improves by the minute. So we do as well…
Screaming uncontrollably
Thursday morning we enjoy, without Floyd who is still resting, profoundly of the beautiful mountains. Everywhere we look beautiful yellow broom is blooming abundantly. I have completely returned to the great, daring and free feeling I had in the beginning of the week. Until I fall and some blood trickles out of my knee. I start sobbing and screaming uncontrollably as a small child. I do not hold back at all! Apparently the tension of all that happened during the week, has to be released. After three minutes I become quiet. All stress had been released. We can go on….
Dear reader, thank you for allowing me to pour my heart out to you…
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