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“Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.” Jay Livingston & Ray Evans
The pilfering of roadside fruit continues – and apparently, so does the hypocrisy.
Look who is the one stuffing their face at the “eat-to-die buffet” today – as my friend Dora calls it.
Judgement yesterday, conversion today.
“What are those round purple fruits called in English?” Massimo asked.
“Plums,” I replied.
“Oh, I ate too many plums today. I don’t have a good feeling in my stomach.” He said, squishing his face.
Ah, yes. The student has become the teacher.
Let’s just say that when he arrived at our destination, he made a very personal and prolonged pilgrimage to the bathroom.
Apparently, too much indulgence of the roadside buffet comes with a price.
“There is always a bill to pay.” – one of Massimo’s favorite quotes.
Manifesting 101
We were standing at the base of our final climb. We had 9 kilometers to go before reaching our accommodation for the night. The hill was a long, gradual, switchback ascent that would take hours to summit.
Just before we crossed the bridge over a little stream to begin the “climb from hell,” I asked Massimo to wait for just a moment.
“I need to get mentally focused before we begin,” I said.
“What?” he said confused.
I began to pray.
“Dear God, it’s me, Emily. If it’s not to much trouble could you please bring a car, driving in our same direction to take us to the top?”
Massimo began to laugh, shook his head, and started walking.
“If a car drives by on this middle-of-nowhere gravel road to hell, I’m hitchhiking to the top. You can do as you like,” I said confidently.
“Okay. It’s not going to happen. It looks like nobody drives this road.”
“Well, I’m manifesting it so don’t get in the way.”
We continued walking upwards. It was already midday and extremely hot. The road dipped in and out of the shade.
“Tell me a funny story. Something to take my mind off this awful climb,” I said.
He told me a story. It wasn’t funny but it did occupy my brain for a little bit and made me forget about how badly my legs were aching.
About a third of the way up I needed to stop, stand still, and catch my breath.
I heard what sounded like an engine and tires rolling on gravel.
“A CAR! Do you hear it?” I squealed.
“You’re dreaming. That is not a car,” he said in a flat tone, “Let’s go.”
We started to walk again.
“No, LOOK, it’s a car!”
We both turned around and saw a car driving up the hill towards us.
“See, I told you so.”
“Get in the middle of the road and stop him!” Massimo yelled.
We could see two men in the front seat of the little black Suzuki.
I stood in the middle of the road, waving my green bandana, and motioning him to stop and roll down the window.
I walked to the driver’s side of the car, pointed forward, and said, “Can you take us to the top?”
“No English,” and he threw his hands up as if to say “sorry.”
That’s when I noticed two heads from the backseat lean forward out of the darkness and into the sunlight. Their wives.
No room in the car. Dammit.
They smiled, we all waved to each other, and they drove off leaving us in a trail of dust.
I immediately wanted to reenact that dramatic scene from Titanic – the one where Kate Winslet says in a frozen, fading voice while she is floating in the Atlantic on the door (that was really large enough for two people) and reaching out her arms, “Come back. Come back. Come back…” and then starts blowing a whistle she borrowed from a dead guy, and the men in the life boat rescue her. What a happy ending…for her anyway. Poor Leo.
I wanted to do that.
“Come back, come back…come baaaack…we will ride on the roof…please, come back!” I would scream. And maybe cry and fall to my knees on the dusty dirty road for dramatic effect.
I could blow the whistle on the chest strap of my backpack Walter.
Massimo was laughing.
I was not.
Manifesting 101. Be specific.
We need a car, driving in our direction…with room for TWO extra passengers.
I should have learned this lesson by now after all the completely-wrong-for-me boyfriends I’ve manifested over the years.
We continued our walk and I was running on empty. My tank was out of gas. With 45 minutes left to go, I stopped under a tree and took a rest. Massimo was long gone and out of sight.
About ten minutes later I heard footsteps coming and looked up to see Massimo, without a backpack (or his superhero cape) ascending over the crest of the hill.
“Come on, give me your bag. You are tired,” he said as he picked up Walter and strapped him to his back.
“No, I can’t let you carry my bag,” I said gruffly.
“I’ll only carry it to where I left my bag and then you can have it back.”
“Fine,” I said, annoyed that he is so perfect.
My legs felt like Jello when I stood up. All wiggly and wonky. Thunder and lightning (my legs) aren’t accustomed to hiking without the weight of Walter.
When we reached his backpack, he picked it up and carried it on the front of his body like a goddamn Superhero. 🦸♂️ Move over Captain America, Captain Italia 🇮🇹 has saved the day.
Hence why we call him The Legend.
He walked at least 600 meters before he got tired of me yelling at him to “give me back Walter” and finally returned my precious cargo.
He really is a Saint.
I’m going to start the paperwork on his Canonization immediately. I want to get a head start so he doesn’t have to wait in line at the “pearly gates”. It’s really the least I can do.
When It All Comes Full Circle
With 15 minutes and 1.1 km left to go to reach the guesthouse for tonight, a car with three empty passenger seats drove by just to mock me.
I wouldn’t dare ask the man to stop. I have too much pride for that.
Oh, the Universe has jokes…but I ain’t laughing.
Traditional Chinese Medicine
Just before we started our big climb of the day, we stopped in a little village to eat the sandwiches that the owner of the guesthouse prepared for us for the long journey.
It’s my first time eating a toasted ham, lard, and ketchup sandwich. It’s bizarre and I don’t recommend it but I was grateful to have it.
About an hour after we ate, my stomach felt achy and as if I had a rock inside my belly.
It reminded me of a conversation we had yesterday after Massimo consumed his European-style focaccia bread sandwich.
We were walking (obviously) and he turned to me and said, “My stomach is having difficulty digesting that sandwich.”
Confused, I ask, “How do you know that?”
“Because it’s been over an hour and I still feel full.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that in-tune with my body to know that a sandwich is not digesting well in my stomach,” I replied, “open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
When I lived in New York City, I briefly studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, so I’m basically a doctor.
In TCM, the tongue is essentially the medical chart for your entire body. Each section of the tongue represents a specific area of the body and depending on the color, coating, and other little details, you can analyze the overall health of a person.
I looked closely at his tongue, like the medical professional that I am, and noticed some cracks near the center.
“In my professional medical opinion, you have a leaky gut.”
Massimo looked at me intensely, squinted his eyes, crinkled his nose, and let out a really loud fart.
“Ahhh, excellent, I’m glad that you agree with my diagnosis,” I exclaimed in my most professional doctor-sounding voice.
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
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We skipped a big section this morning. The stage was 30 kilometers with nothing in the middle – not a town, not a water source, nothing. At this point, I can’t do it, and I don’t want to do it. It’s hot and dehydration is part of the reason (I think) I’m not over this stupid infection.
A nice Romanian guy named David who stayed at our accommodation last night offered to drive us this morning to the next trailhead so we could start walking. We had planned to pay the owner of the guesthouse for the lift but David insisted he wanted to do it as a gift to us.
Remember…there is always a bill to pay.
Secretly, he had a man crush on Massimo. I recognized this immediately at dinner last night and he confirmed my speculation in the car when he abruptly pulled the car over and told Massimo he wanted to be Facebook friends. Nothing like a hostage situation to gain followers.
David is a professional chef (and a really great guy! – I’m kidding as I tell this story about him) and has always wanted to learn how to make traditional pasta in Italy, so naturally he had a million questions for Massimo – and a captive audience.
A huge highlight for me today was…a cow parade! 🐄
We met a lovely Romanian family who lives in Tennessee. They are on vacation to see family and were out on a hike to fly their drone over the hills. They were absolutely lovely. Their son, Nico, is taking a gap year between University and Dental School. He plans to visit Italy and had a ton of questions for Massimo. We told him about our experiences on the Via Francigena and we might have converted him to trying a Camino.
Oh, and they texted me this evening that they captured footage on the drone of us walking and will send it when they edit the video. How fun!
When we stopped in the little village along the trail to take a break and eat the sandwiches, unfortunately, the only shop in town to buy more water was closed. I saw a couple of men working outside of a house and asked if they spoke English. They didn’t, so I raised up my empty water bottle and asked if they had any Apa (water)?
Da, da, da. (Yes, yes, yes)
The man led us inside the gate to a young woman who filled two of our bottles.
Honestly, we would have been screwed without their help. The kindness of the Romanian people has been incredible.
The place we are staying tonight is literally in the middle of nowhere – their hot water heater has a wood burning stove to keep the water warm. The hosts are fantastic and very generous. They were outside to welcome us when we arrived and have cakes and booze (secretly disguised as juice and water) waiting for us. The meal was excellent and the guesthouse is adorable.
I love a good pig butt. Oink! 🐖
