Monday, November 2, 2009

On Your Mark, Get Set, Andiamo!

Woke up this morning at 5:50 to catch the first bus off the farm. It's about a 20 min walk to the bus stop.

Pouring rain. Pitch black dark...not too many lights on that early when you live on a farm in the hills of nowhere.

As I round a rocky bend up a hill and away from the farm, I realize I have exactly enough time to just barely make it. Speed walking. Flip flops. Giant backpack on a not so giant person.

Look down at my phone. I really don't have enough time to make it.

Running.

Chestnut shells all over the road. Ouch.

Rocky path turns to massive mudslide hill. We're talking thick, gooey mud.

I suddenly feel like I'm on the second leg of some kind of hippie farmer triathlon.

My flip flops aren't cooperating with the mud. My body feels like I'm running, but I'm barely moving. Just sticking and sliding in the mud. Panting in the rain.

Throw the flip flops off. Sprinting barefoot uphill in muddy, rocky darkness. Soggy, heavy bags. Gross.

I find relief for a moment as I splash through a big puddle and some of the sharp pebbles and twigs wash off the squishy coating of mud on the bottoms of my feet.

It starts to rain even harder.

I'm not even sure if I'm running in the right direction when I look up and see the bus stop just ahead....maybe 15 feet in front of me. I made it!

But then....oh...wait....there...goes...the bus.

Arms flailing in the middle of the narrow road, I scream "Stop! Para! Para! Per favore..."(I'm not even sure if that's proper Italian)

But it doesn't matter. It's too late.

I recently learned the Italian hand gesture for "fuck you!" so I put my fingers together in an angry mudra and shake it at the back of the bus as it speeds away.

And now for the last and most important leg of the hippie farmer triathlon: accepting defeat, doing it all over again, and heading back to the farm to wait for the next bus in two hours.

A true hippie yogi would have to see the light in this situation and know that this was somehow meant to be.

So I took a deep sigh, laughed and felt grateful that I could at least go back to wash the mud from my bare feet and enjoy a hot shower and leisurely breakfast with a nice cup of tea.

Plus, the second time around I got a ride to the bus stop.

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