This is my life
I stand over the sink in the hotel bathroom, naked because everything I own is now dirty and in that sink, doing my best agitator impersonation with the handful of garments that are now soaking in the mix of hotel water and a few drops of our slowly dwindling stock of Dr Bronners or whatever other soap I have found.
I look up into the mirror, briefly, notice myself – the lines around my eyes and the greying of my hair – and take stock of just what it is I am doing, uttering either silently or aloud (I mean, who the hell knows), “This is my life.”
This is the ritual of the nomad pilgrim. The daily sink laundry. We strip down, start the clothes soaking, shower, then agitate, rinse, and roll into a towel to absorb most of the water before hanging it all somewhere…anywhere…that’s available. I’m not afraid to say that, sometimes, the bidet that has been confirmed clean (I don’t want to say how) becomes the repository for newly washed clothes before they move to the drying rack. It’s just an easy place to drop stuff as I wash. Have I done laundry in a bidet? Why, yes. Yes I have.
Then we pray that everything will be pretty dry by the time we pack up in the early morning to move on to the next town, hotel, and sink. It’s amazing the joy we feel when we are able to book space in a place that has laundry facilities.
“This is my life.”
Random Thoughts and Useless Observations – Italy so far
The walk is peaceful. Silent. Remote. Isolating, at times, but peaceful and stunningly beautiful.
You read blogs and articles about how Italy is getting older (it’s population is one of the oldest in the EU), its small towns dying. I’m here to tell you, I see it. Some of these places are ghost towns. Buildings are wrecked, shops are closed (even when they say they are open), and there is always just a few older men just standing on the street…talking…and smoking.
Full Disclosure – Of course, these are thoughts “so far.” We have crossed the Alps and trekked through the Aosta Valley and into Piedmont on our way toward Milan. We are walking through pretty rural areas and mostly small towns, but the level of decay is stunning.
It’s so sad. For a country with such history, natural beauty, culture, and abundant natural resources, how Italy is such a mismanaged train wreck is dispiriting. The political corruption is endless, the apathy is depressing, and the government is seemingly incapable of doing the most simple things. How they aren’t one of the economic leaders in the world boggles the mind.
Quick additional note on this…after WWII, Germany, Italy, and Japan were all in similar positions, lost, wrecked, and shamed. Look at them now. The difference is pure choice and political will.
All that considered…
My stomach is definitely Italian. We haven’t had a bad bite to eat. The pasta. The pizza. Jesus, the fucking coffee. It’s like everyone else in the world is just trying to imitate…and failing badly. And the service? The best..
For the money, there usually isn’t anything better than the house wines. A liter can usually be had for less than $10
Seriously, what’s with the track suits and sweat pants on men? I mean, in restaurants, too? I know joggers are hot now, but Russell Athletic grey sweats are a step too far into the abyss.
My best second language by far is Italian and it really helps as we walk through the country. I’m not fluent but can pretty easily communicate our needs and desires, and I think it makes people more comfortable. But, embarrassingly, I still say stupid things every once in a while in Spanish, Catalan, French, or English…or all of them in one interaction when, say, checking in to a B&B.
We have definitely left the mountains…and I think my soul stayed there.
We have trekked over 300km so far and have another week of walking through vineyards and rice fields before we take a break for a while and head up to the Dolomites, then down to Modena on our way to Tuscany and the continuation of our road to Rome. I think we need the break from the walking…and the daily laundry. We have some more mountains to climb, some friends to see, and a lunch booked in the best restaurant in the world before heading south and walking through arguably one of the most beautiful places on earth. Maybe my soul will meet me there.
Ciao for now.
Cheers. Clink.
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