The start of many lessons to be learnt!

Monday 23^rd August 2010: Lesson #1. Don't buy shopping in the first place you see at 9.15am then spend 5 hours carrying it in your rucksack around town looking for a salon to wax your legs! On my morning travels I found a shop which sold flip-flops and a wide variety of shoes for every occasion. I knew after trying to walk in the river that the stones were too hard for my feet to walk on. I knew I needed something to help me again when the need arose. I also know after having many very painful treatments to remove a verrucca, not to mention quite expensive, I didn’t want to catch another one, so showering in campsites with a muddy tray to walk through was not an option for me. Compose

Ordinarily, I would have bought a few to suit every need, but now, because money is tight, it is a good experience for me to sacrifice my options. After being in the shop for nearly 20 minutes and after picking up and replacing flip flops very many times, I opted for some plastic imitation ‘crocs’. Now I must say, never in my life did I think to ever buy ‘crocs’. I think they are ugly at the best of times, but my opinion seems to have changed. I saw the daintiest yellow ones with orange flowers all around them. I was beginning to develop a fondness for them. I tried them on, and they looked cute. I wondered whether these could do the jobs I had intended them for. I thought they would, and so I bought them.

I then went to the supermarket. Being in a different country I haven’t been able to find soya milk that would help me survive breakfast and coffee. I have been doing without, but I was glad to find some eventually in this shop. I probably shouldn’t have bought 2 though. When I got home it tasted disgusting. More water than soya, and its brown. Lesson #2. Only buy one until you know what it’s like. I then filled my basket with 6 cans of lager for the Pilot whose last set of cans have apparently ‘disappeared’ I think we all know where they actually went. I bought juice and bread and a variety of other heavy items. After paying for them, I placed them all in my rucksack and thought about cycling home.

I then bought a clothes airer for outside and immediately regretted not having more space in my rucksack. I would have to put it on my handlebars which would annoy me all the way home. It reminded me of living at university. The Tesco’s I used to go to was the other side of town. I would cycle there with ease, and then have copious amounts of shopping bags on the handlebars which would pull me from side to side in order to kill me. I used to travel with my red bike then. It was a faithful travelling companion that went with me to many places. It wanted to take it with me again this time, but the brakes have long worn and its needs a complete makeover. I don't think people realise its more than a bike to me, it’s my memories that I hold dear. I would like to restore it when I get back.

I left the shops and thought about whether I could try and find a place to wax my legs. I call it ‘getting organised’. Slightly annoyed at my decision to shave parts of my legs yesterday, I berated myself at not waiting. I would in the future. I have been to a great lady who organises me for about 8 years now. It's flipping painful, as much as the adverts show it, like you’re being licked by kittens. Having the works done is a painful process, but worth it. I know that with my bikini I will want to appear smooth and not like some woolly mammoth from the prehistoric era!! I decided to enter a ‘Superdrug’ like place and ask if they spoke English. They said ‘a little’. They told me I could find the stuff I needed there, but I tried to explain that I wanted someone to do it for me. There are places I just can reach you know! She gave me some directions in her best English and I wandered down the road with my heavy rucksack and clothes airer. I crossed the road and came to the end of the hill, and so I turned back. I entered another shop which gave me directions for the opposite direction. Annoyed that I had obviously missed the place, I turned back. I showed many shop keepers my note which was writer in Slovenian, yet to no avail. I decided to go back to the ‘Superdrug’ shop and ask the lady where this place was. She said I was standing in it. FLIPPING HECK!! I had crossed the street backwards and forwards about 5 times by now and my rucksack wasn’t getting any lighter! She gave me more directions and said I needed to go down the hill. It was nearly 12 noon by now and I was hot under the weight of my shopping. She said they probably closed at 12pm, but I thought I would go at least to find it, and then come back tomorrow without my burden.

I crossed the street again and stopped in a church for some solace and to get away from the heat. It was what I needed and spiritually I was able to go on a little further. The bells tolled and I knew that midday had arrived without me realising it. I got back on my bike, which was unstable because of the flipping airer, and I continued on my journey.

Going down the winding hill was wonderful. The crisp coolness counteracted with my hot body and I cycled down without a care. I arrived at the bottom of the hill in the knowledge that I would have to cycle up again to the top and hoped that my tired body would take it. All good exercise I thought. The past few weeks have done wonders for my figure. Months of trying to lose weight were in vain. All I needed was to eat less and exercise more, something I was certainly doing on this trip. I am down to notch ‘4’ on my belt now. Good times!

As I was looking around, I saw many shops, but not the ‘Medista’ I was looking for. Shops here have no rhyme or reasons. It isn’t like, here is a high street, you have everything within walking distance. No, its like. This is here and that is there. You need to go to it.

I locked my bike and went in search for the Holy Grail. I went down alleyways and no-go roads, and just when I thought about giving up, there it was, sandwiched in between a flower shop and a vending machine that sold chunks of cheese and empty plastic bottles. I saw from the sign on the door it was closed for lunch till 13.00. I decided to stop under the shade of a tree and make light of the burden on my back and had lunch. The bread and pate filled my dry mouth with a wonderful satisfaction, and the orange juice replenished all the water I had sweated just to arrive to this point. It was a lovely lunch, only hindered by the fact that a wasp wanted to join me, and the thought that my bike was miles away and I would have to retrieve it. I was looking around and realised that I was back at the bottom of the hill. Never mind I thought. At least I was closer to going up the hill. I retried my bike and sat looking at the people walking by.

At 13.00, the sliding doors to the salon opened. Inside I wandered around and saw a man inside one of the treatment rooms. Typical, I thought, I finally find a place to get my bikini done and it’s going to be removed by a man! I was disheartened. Again I asked the lady behind the counter if she spoke English and she replied as they all had that day: ‘A little.’ I managed to get an appointment for 16.00 on Wednesday and was relieved that she would be doing it for €5. Mission accomplished. All done and dusted I left. Cycling up the hill would be easier than I thought, as there was a cycle/pedestrian walk way to lead me to the top. I passed a young man who looked at me and smiled as I struggled up the steep gradient, still with my heavy rucksack and clothes airer. I wondered if he would offer to help, or whether he would help me, but he didn’t, so I struggled on. Reaching the top was an achievement. More exercise I thought!

 When I arrived back at the campsite, it was announced that there would be a BBQ tonight. Brilliant I thought! I had brought some chicken legs and small typical Slovenian sausages (which tasted of lamb). Although upon closer inspection, we found out that the BBQ would cost €5 per person. We took out our own blue BBQ bucket and had ours for €0.

After tiding the Snail, I decided that I would walk down to the ‘bin area’ and deposit our rubbish there. When I got there I saw some friends I had been playing cards with the previous night and they invited me to sit down with them. Interestingly enough I had already brought my wine glass with me, it turned out to be a good decision. That’s the second time that I have done that - wandered off with a wine glass in my hand. I think I may have a ‘wine magnet’ impeded within my fingers!!

I sat down and was introduced to more Polish Pilots and their wives and girlfriends. It was a good opportunity to practise the language I had hoped to learn by now. I met someone whose birthday it was, of course we had to toast their health. More red wine consumed. Then I met a woman who was here with her husband and son who both fly. She said she didn’t fly, someone had to be the normal one. Besides, who would retrieve them otherwise! I know that feeling.

Much more took place and the free wine came out in the shape of a wine-box. Pilots hovered around with their plastic glasses hoping that it wouldn’t run out by the time they had got there. I was passed a glass of white wine. I accepted of course, my red had long disappeared. The time flew by with laughter and song. I hasdnt realised how long I had been away until the Pilot arrived, also holding a glass of wine. We started to play cards, eat crisps and biscuits. Then the vodka came out. I always feel bad about rejecting the vodka that’s been given to me, especially if its a toast for someone. I remember last New Years Eve in Poland not taking part in a toast and realising afterwards it was a toast for the married couple’s unborn baby. I felt ashamed. And so with this knowledge, I accepted and the vodka joined the red and white wine in my tummy. My head by now was well and truly sizzled. I was hungry for the BBQ meat and we said our goodbye’s in order to fill our tummies with solids. Now my legs seemed to have abandoned me at this point. Walking back to the BBQ seemed quite hard, but the meal was delicious. Lamb-like sausages- yummy.