Life on the road

Kirstin Vanlierde
Jul 25, 2017 · 4 min read

About the journey that is about to end, and the one that isn’t

© KV — Church of the Madonna of Mercy (16th century) at Rocca Calascio

There is something extraordinary about this honeymoon-that-isn’t-a-honeymoon. Or at least, that’s how I feel about this Italy trip of ours. Perhaps every good journey undertaken with openness of mind and a sense of adventure has this particular savory, slightly intoxicating taste — I wouldn’t know.

I only know no two days have been the same, and every one held both unexpected beauty and disappointment. Sometimes the extremes have been breathtaking, then again one thing graciously flowed into the next.

We had long, tiring drives and lazy afternoons. We swam in luxury pools and drowned in our own sweat. We stood in awe for the most beautiful vistas and fled the ugliest suburbs. We have seen more meat on our plates than we usually eat in a month, but we have also found ourselves served delicious vegetarian, organically, home-grown food.

We slept on top of a mountain where the silence was overwhelming, and in a noisy village with the church bell sounding every quarter of the hour, day and night. We dined like kings, and had lunch in a place where the food resembled the plastic flowers decorating the table.

We have sipped delicious, ridiculously cheap liqueur and looked in vain for affordable diesel fuel.

© KV — Anisetta liqueur, served in an authentic art nouveau café

We had a host with a freakish liking for all things orange (walls, bed sheets, every single ornament in every room, including the kitchen!), and another who lived in an authentic, restored Medieval village.

© KV — The Medieval fortress of Rocca Calascio. We slept in the village just below it (not visible on the picure).

We had nights where ventilators and open windows couldn’t curb the heat, and nights where we had to huddle together for warmth.

We have been to the tops of mountains and into the depths of caves. We saw ancient ruins that were better preserved than modern earthquake disaster areas.

© KV — Ruins of the Roman city of Alba Fucens
© KV — Amfitheater at Alba Fucens

We have lunched on ice-cream in an expensive ski-resort village, and picnicked with fresh bread, vegetables, local cheese and a bottle of wine on the overgrown terrace beside our bedroom.

We found an endearing dead bat in the garden and a scorpion very much alive in our sink.

© KV — Only about three centimeters in size, but still: my very first scorpion! Would it have anything to do with the fact that Chris and I are both Scorpios, I wonder…?

For Chris and me as a couple, this has also been an experience.

Between the two of us we shared the hour-long drives and the inevitable decisions you have to make when on the road. We have agreed over lodgings and disagreed over routes and use of road maps. We have cracked stupid jokes and had deep, intimate and vulnerable conversations. We got angry over misunderstandings, and were very happy to be together.

We have three more days left and will start moving north tomorrow, with stops in Ravenna, Austria and Germany. Mentally we are preparing for the end of this wonderful trip.

But that other journey of ours isn’t about to end anytime soon. We have once again established the fact that, both in life and on the road, we are the best of travelling companions.

I am looking forward to many, many more miles on the road.

© KV — Lone tree on the road descending to Grenoble

The Story Hall

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Kirstin Vanlierde

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A songbird aiming to add its song to the endless music playing throughout the universe.

The Story Hall

A gathering place for stories to be told, read and appreciated.

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