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“If you come to a fork in the road, take it.” Yogi Berra
I woke up to several “Massimo messages”.
Not from him but about him.
Seems he’s become somewhat of a Wondering Wanderer celebrity. Several blog followers have told me how much they loved the updates he wrote, and, more importantly, how much they just generally love him.
But really, who wouldn’t?
Hopefully, when he’s rich and famous he doesn’t forget the little people that helped make him a star. ⭐️
If he does, I’ll remind him.
Men are telling me they want to be pals and hike with him someday, and women, well, they want to marry him.
Jan, I did pass along your proposal. I’m not sure if he’s accepted yet, but I’ll keep ya posted. Or better yet, I’ll give him your number.
Today was long. And hot.
32 kilometers (20 miles) in 34°C (93°F).
We walked 26.5 kilometers (16.5 miles) of it under the scorching sun before I finally said, “Screw this. We’re taking a taxi.”
And that’s when the bus showed up. Right on cue. I took it as a sign from the hiking gods.
We also rode for free. Please don’t tell the authorities.
…
We only got lost once.
In a forest.
I was actually frightened for about 20 seconds.
Yesterday, I finally gave in and decided I needed something, anything, to distract my mind from the ongoing discomfort and frustration of my current medical situation. So I started listening to an audiobook, Life Will Be The Death of Me…And You Too! by Chelsea Handler.
I was blissfully unaware of the trail and unconsciously following Massimo’s lead, as usual, completely absorbed in my book, when suddenly he stopped, turned around and said:
“We are off the trail.”
Not by a little.
By a lot.
And in the middle of a forest.
When I looked at the map, it didn’t seem that bad.
But then we started walking.
And walking.
And walking.
And the scenery wasn’t changing.
At all.
Then we noticed our location was not syncing and moving on the map.
That’s when I started to panic a little.
Massimo was moving much faster than me through the brush and dead leaves while I was looking down, completely focused on each step. I was trying to avoid every hole, burrow or suspicious patch of foliage that might contain an animal, or anything else, that could cause me to twist an ankle.
I’m also not sure if poison ivy grows in Romania, but I was avoiding anything green with three or five leaves – I can’t remember which number it is – just in case.
The pharmacy I’m currently lugging around in my backpack is already full. I really don’t have the energy to nurse a poisonous rash or a bum leg.
Then I looked up.
Massimo was nowhere in sight.
I stopped abruptly and listened.
Nothing.
I couldn’t even hear his footsteps crunching through the bone-dry, crispy leaves.
So I yelled his name.
Extremely loudly. Twice.
No answer.
My first thought was: Who’s going to do my laundry?
Massimo has very generously been doing both of our laundry while I’ve been sick, and I suddenly realized that getting lost in the Romanian wilderness could have some very real domestic consequences.
My second thought was:
Oh, thank God I have the bear spray.
Followed immediately by: Dammit. He has the hammock.
Priorities.
Moments later, I heard Massimo yelling my name.
I still couldn’t see him, but at least he was within audible distance.
I walked toward his voice and eventually spotted him through the trees.
He pointed toward the road.
“The road is that way.”
And then he disappeared again.
Because…Of course he did.
I continued in the direction he pointed and finally found him sitting peacefully in the shade at the edge of the woods, backpack off, eating a snack and looking at his phone like we had never been lost in the middle of a Romanian forest.
Crisis averted.
I finished the third round of antibiotics today. I’m still not 100% but I’m hopeful.
I have five more days of prescribed medications (four of them!) that I will continue to take. Two of them are a powdery substance that I have to mix with 8 ounces of water and drink twice a day.
When we arrived to the accommodation, I prepared one of the meds in a plastic bottle. I shook it like the instructions said and sat it on the table to “rest for one minute” before drinking.
I turned around for maybe thirty seconds and looked back to find an empty bottle.
I’m sure my eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
“Did you just drink that?” I said pointing to the empty bottle.
“Yeah, why?”
I was confused that he didn’t realize it was medicine because it tastes like dog hair and chalk.
“That was my medicine!”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I guess I won’t be getting a urinary tract infection.”
And there you have it. Just another day traveling with Massimo.
Apparently, when you’re hiking 1,400 kilometers through Romania, getting lost in forests, accidentally drinking your partner’s medicine and becoming the unexpected heartthrob of a travel blog…you really don’t need much else to keep things interesting.
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
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