44 days have passed since I set out again. It didn’t start well. While I was in Bosnia for few days with friends, Cecilia escaped in Switzerland. Two weeks of desperate searching. I had lost hope. I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to leave. I was really sad. My heart was broken.
On reaching my first stop at my sister’s place in Basel I fell ill. The departure was postponed, again! Then a message on whatsapp: is this kitten yours? (with photo attached) Cecilia! I couldn’t believe it. I’m sooooo grateful to lovely Manuela.
The bond with Cecilia was strengthened by this experience. Obviously I was worried that she would run away from me so I put a harness and leash on her …. but it was a stress: for me, for her. She got stuck everywhere … it wasn’t the kind of life I wanted to give her…she’s a cat!
My experience with Dimitri taught me: Trust. You should trust. So I did also with Cecilia. A panacea! She disappeared for hours during the day or the night, but she always came back. When she is frightened, she run straight in the Pajero. She’s great and she brings me lots of disembowelled mices. When I call her, she doesn’t always come but I know she is around and that sooner or later she will be back. I think Cecilia has learned her lesson too.
I will be extremely honest: a trip in Europe has never interested me. I had already cycled from Amsterdam to Faido and it was definitely not the highlight of my trip. Don’t get me wrong: there are beautiful places, villages, lot of history, amazing architecture, astonishing landscapes …. but there is not MAGIC … and even my posts have lost it … the MAGIC.
Apart from the fact that everything is very anonymous and there is very little social contact, you can’t do anything: private property everywhere, very inhabited, no access everywhere, no camping, no swimming, entrances to pay … I get anxious. All this of course is really understandable: the land is overflowing with people and it is right to protect the few places that are still a bit wild … but it’s tiring.
Finding a place to spend the night without breaking a thousand prohibitions was difficult (I did anyway few times, mea culpa). I certainly stayed away from antennas and electricity pylons … yes, because I forgot to tell you about my experience “on television” in Serbia: I had found a lovely place with an amazing view. It was next to an electricity pylon but it didn’t bother me. As soon as I got out of the car I took the longest pee in the world. A perfect “pee with view”. I remember I let out an ‘aaaaahhh’ from the relief of releasing myself and then did a mini dance of joy … yep, things you do in your most intimate sphere.
After 30 minutes, already comfortable in my Pajero, I hear a knock and somebody opened the door (which I usually close before sleeping)! They were 4 young men. Furious (and also a bit scared), I asked how they allowed themselves to open the door!! “Sorry, sorry! We are military. You are in a military zone, we saw you in the camera” and they pointed at the pylon. They kept talking, but the only thing that echoed in my head was ‘w e s a w y o u i n t h e c a m e r a’… We looked each other in the eyes, me serious and them trying to hold back laughter. “You’re really very welcome! (smile) but you can’t stay here”…nothing, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of these 4 young men in front of the screen having a good laugh in front of my pale booty dancing.
I navigate with maps showing me all the military zones, but this one was not there. Of course I apologised. They understood. They were really nice. They showed me where I could safely spend the night. Lesson learned.
In Germany I stopped in a car park near a forest. It was not very clean because tourists or young locals often leave rubbish lying around … I was not thrilled but it was fine for 1 night. At night I had the impression that I had ants everywhere. I didn’t sleep well. In the morning my legs and arms were full of red dots. An invasion of fleas! I sifted blankets, clothes, mattress and cats. No mercy. I feared there were eggs. Fortunately, I had eradicated them. Never again in a dirty place. Lesson learned.
Luckily I also met lovely people with who I immediately connected. We could have talked for hours. Also tourists. The very few I met so far. Konni and Wolfgang who gave me a wonderful surprise by visiting me at a campsite; Renate and Fred who brought me a piece of cake from their ‘downtown’ tour.
At Lisbeth (the white witch) and Rob’s place I spent a week. They are Dutch and run a nice campsite – B&B in the Czech Republic. Lisbeth knows the properties of wild plants and herbs: ‘in winter if you don’t know what to do come here,’ she told me. “OK Lisbeth but you teach me about plants”. She showered me with gifts. A woman with beautiful energy and a strong spirit.
From Germany to Latvia there were tourists, even many, but they were local tourists. As in the Balkans, families here spend their weekends in nature: campsites filled up, paths were invaded by bicycles and walkers, barbecues, canoe trips… people everywhere. I like how they enjoy their own country.
In the Czech Republic I would say they are the most ‘professional’: strictly phosphorescent sportswear, sports socks pulled up to the knees, the latest outdoor jackets, headband. They looked like they came out a sportswear magazine. In Czech Republic I also found the most beautiful camping places.
But zero contacts. People were interested in my cats. They took pictures of Dimitri or the cat flap installed on the Pajero, but they didn’t talk to me. Maybe because hardly anyone speaks English (or any other language).
I’m spending looooots of time immersed in nature. Now I really realise how much I missed it. The chirping of birds, the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of flies, the rustling of leaves in the wind … so peaceful and rejuvenating. I slowly head north, through fields, forests, lakes and rivers.
The days flow slowly. The sun stays up until 10:30 pm and darkness never comes. I do not know how this journey will continue, but I must be careful not to reach Lapland during the time of the Nordic vampires: the mosquitoes (which are already now quite annoying). Lesson learned in a Canadian summer: clouds of mosquitoes getting into your ears, nose, eyes, mouth while eating or speaking … a nightmare.
But do you know what is the most important lesson I learned? To follow my gut. That little voice inside that we all have but often don’t listen to because we believe that rationality is more logical than intuition. When travelling alone one is a bit vulnerable in certain situations. A warning light comes on. Not anxiety, fear or dread simply alertness and the little voice inside gets louder and louder. I believe it’s a normal survival instinct that we don’t need in our comfortable homes.
I have learned to listen to that little voice. I follow what my gut tells me, always. Maybe this journey doesn’t feel very ‘mine’, but I am certain of the decision I made a year ago: to give it all up. And you? Do you follow your instincts or rationality?
Big hug
Stefi, Dimitri and Cecilia
