Saturday, August 31st, 2013
I missed the bloody bus. Have to stay in Nice for another night. (Hostel operator informed me that because it was a seasonal bus, and one of the last to run at its time, I probably missed it because it didn't run, due to the driver being disinterested).
Sunday, September 1st, 2013
-Up and at 'em early, gonna make that bus.
-Beautiful bus ride. Got to St. Martin Vesubie by 10:30. This is the Alps. This air, this town. Or should I say village. There are little fountains everywhere, all safe to drink from. The one in the village green has a chemical composition list. Wow. I haven't tasted water this pure and wonderfully cold in a long time. If ever.
Children at play. Tourists in shops. Mostly elderly, like those on the bus up.
-Wearing in the body. New blisters every second. Everything aches a bit. Didn't realize just how out of shape I have become. Sitting in an apple orchard that has been converted into a little restaurant. Making good time, despite everything. Looks like I'll eventually settle to an average of 5kph. That may improve over time. Should be able to knock out 25-30k per good day on the road. (Hah. Ahaha. Ahahahahahaha.)
Funny Sidenote: My beard is coming into its own, now that I've given it a month to grow, and, as with loing hair, I am discovering a whole world of new problems. Drinking is different. Water stays in the hairs now, too. Better for quizzical stroking, though. On the whole, I am quite interested to see what another month of growth will bring.
-Two dudes pull over. One says get in. 15 minutes later, after I am informed that my country has entered yet another 'conflict', I realize we are going the wrong way after the new turn. Finally get the dudes to stop, and I am 9k south of the turn, as well as about 300m lower. Funnily, it's roughly the same distance as before. Fun adventure. (Never start a journey on a Sunday. Old Irish saying. Wish I had remembered. This is where the fun begins.)
-It's 8. I'm wet (it rained for a while) and sore and too tired to walk much farther today.
Monday, September 2nd, 2013
-Bedded down on a not-so-friendly park bench, but the rain had gotten me wet, as well as the sweat. Didn't realize how cold it would get. All my layers couldn't keep me warm. Snuck in two REM cycles thanks to melatonin. Up by three, not tired enough to counteract the cold, so I hit the road. I have not felt these depths of misery and despair in a great while. The walk was cold, then I would heat up and sweat, then be forced to stop due to exhaustion, freezing me even more.
The result is that now here I am, sitting in a little courtyard in a small village called Roubion, covered in dry sweat, hungry, literally almost exhausted, and with only one major problem (Hahaha). This little village appears to be in short supply of card readers, and I only have 50e in cash at present. THerefore, I may be forced into something drastic, cause I don't think I can walk much further.
Did I mention I gained 800m of elevation on this morning's little 8k jaunt?
Village. Town. Hamlet, even. A small grouping of houses with a few communal shops. Fascinating people. Some of these folks may have been here all their lives.
This would be the place to move to. A small house or apartment, a strong car for the winter snows, and a stack of pens and paper. These people seem so unassuming. Small wonder, considering they are almost completely isolated from the world.
That would be a good life. A hostel to run, a book to write, a lover to warm. Simple pleasures. If the last 24 hours have taught me anything, it's that the basics should never be taken for granted.
-Finally cut through a pass into a new valley. Just walked down, see a sign for Boeil (local village that my map indicates has some quantity to it) that points to a trail. Alright. Walk down a ways.
-Enter pure white and extremely fluffy puppy. Say hi. Wags tail. Start down the path. Follows me. Looks hungry, so I give it a little bread and some water. Keeps following me. 5k later I've reached the road again. Again. Still following me. Walk up to Boeil. Still following me.
Eventually it stops to play with some kids. Reappears later, and a local busybody asks if it's mine. Nope. She calls around based on where I said it found me, and eventually it becomes clear who the dog belongs to. Some women come and collect it.
Goodbye friend. Not much of a conversationalist, but a good listener.
-Took a hotel room. 'Bout to go take a hot bath and a cold beer. Some quality shuteye.
(I gained and lost a total of roughly 1400m this day)
Tuesday, September 3rd, 2013
Holed up in a hotel to rest and recuperate. Backside of right knee is tender. (Everything else was too).
Wednesday, September 4th, 2013
My sweat attracts and ungodly qamount of flies and gnats and other small buzzers. Very frustrating while trying to write. Or pee.
Walking the road down. See a trail that is going the same direction. Why not. Pretty views, lovely countryside.
-Small little collection of tiny stone cottages, maybe 7 or 8. Broken down, probably abandoned since the second World War. Strange location. I can't help but look at these miniature houses and wonder about the lives of the people who lived here.
-Came across a few forest keepers. They informed me that the path I was on would lead me to a lovely town that was not in the direction I was wishing to go. I turned around and walked the 2-3k back, then wandered down the road for the afternoon. Knee started to get touchy again, and going straight downhill for 10k was a problem as well. Stopped for a snack, and when I got up again, I knee I didn't have the last 7k in me.
Luckily, the road I was on happens to be a bus route, and the bus was one hour away, so I teetered to the next stop and picked it up. (For those of you wondering, I hadn't taken it early because it only ran once a day in the late afternoon. I got REALLY lucky with this)
-Touet sur Var is a nice enough town. The train comes in a little under two hours, which gives me time for a few drinks and to explore the 'city'. The train should reach Digne by 8:45, which should give me time to grab a hotel for the night. Hopefully.
Wandering around in the mountain villages, I finally have come to realize something. A thing may be bizarre to someone seeing it for the first time, but normal to the point of boring for someone who has seen it all their life. (Familiarity breeds contempt).
-This bistrot I am sitting in has a collection of foreign money up behind the bar. Gave the barman one of my 1$, and he taped it up. Always wanted to do that.
People engaged in the fine art of getting by. One day after another. "What do I do for a living? I live for a living."
For some reason that kind of life seems so wonderful to me. Satisfying in its roughness. The simple pleasures are so much better. Cold water tastes like fine wine. A clean bed feels like the palanquin of an empress.
I should open up a youth hostel. Not sure where though. Somewhere in the U.S.? Maybe take a look through Lonely Planet, see where needs hostel-izing.
I'd need a team.
Karl might help. Perhaps Emilio too. Maybe even somebody from on the road. (Idle thoughts, guys, don't get excited).
Thursday, September 5th, 2013
-This hotel has a piano, and after 2+ months, the first song gave me such a rush.
-Bus for Marseille airport about to leave. Hop on.
-Found a hostel in Mareseille. Nice and cheap, a bit of trouble at first but things smoothed themselves out. I have secured cheap lodging for 5 nights. Plenty of time to explore the city, write some of "---------", and rejuvenate my knee.
Friday, September 6th, 2013
First laundry in a while. Bought some new boots, the old ones were too small. Looking at backpacks, my current one has done a number on my back. Met a cool Australian couple yesterday, the dude had a 10 inch beard that was red and braided. Awesome. They left today, but we had a good long conversation last night.
(I am sharing mostly everything, apart from a few private notes to myself. This is the trial and error phase, as you can see.)
