Only hiking boots nothing else
The night was restless. Very warm. The neighbours noisy. And the 24822 mosquitoes in our tent hungry. But I provided them all with enough food. Until at 7 o'clock I had had enough. I scratched myself everywhere. And I was sweating under the blanket, which was supposed to protect me from the beasts, and I really didn't feel like doing all that shit any more. So I quickly went to the toilet, and then I wanted to get out. I just wanted to get out of the horror hut. But then the next monster appeared in the bathroom. A beetle as big as a giant comes crawling towards me. Not slowly. No, it comes at me furiously and clearly has murderous intentions. Clearly! I slam the door, turn off the light in his room and scream at half (all?) the campsite. Gerd wakes up too and what does he do instead of saving me? He goes to the toilet at the supermarket. In doing so, he should get rid of the killer beetle and thus prove himself to be my hero. I think he was far too harmless in his assessment of the situation!
I grab my mobile phone and start looking for nice photo motifs. Because I'll never go into that tent again.
When I return home, driven by a thirst for coffee and breakfast, the man who saved my life takes it upon himself to dispose of the murderous creature. He takes the beetle far enough away on a shovel. I hope it never finds its way back - the beetle, that is, not Gerd.
So my sweetie is the hero of the day and I let myself be convinced to go home again.
After breakfast, our neighbours invite us on a hike to a grotto. We don't say no and come along. We quickly spread the sun cream on Gerd, put on socks and shoes and off we go. Funny, 6 naked girls with hiking boots running cross-country. In between there are swimming breaks and at the end we reach an enchanting grotto that can only be entered by swimming. I let myself drift and imagine what it would be like to be stranded here. I almost float on the water and enjoy the sea, the clear water, the fish below me and the feeling of freedom. I don't even want to think about the fact that our holidays will soon be over and we'll be back to a normal daily routine. But for now, we are enjoying every minute here. We are living in the moment and that is wonderful.
Our neighbours are French, she speaks German and is about 30, he speaks only French and must be over 60. The other couple is about 50 and also very nice, they are Belgian and all in all we are a fun bunch.
The two of us spend the afternoon sleeping and dozing at the tent in the shade. Later we go to the pools, which are actually terraced over the sea and you have a great view of the blue sea while swimming. I watch the people again and one of our tent neighbours is also here. We look closely and notice that they (both far younger than us) cannot swim. It's quite special that there are people today who can't swim. We think about how this can happen. But we don't really get very far. And we don't want to ask either.
Our merry band of hikers reunites at the pool and we lie chatting in the shade, exchanging life wisdom in French, Belgian, crumbly German and a little English. I enjoy the confusion and the people's stories touch me. The young French woman is a musician and has already won a crazy number of prizes with her piano. The two Belgians are coaches and have a similar attitude as we do to the tasks of life and the soul. The Frenchman was a bank director before he retired and is probably madly in love with his young wife. He himself probably has three children. She has none. Whether she wants to have any remains somewhat up in the air, I think it is difficult to plan with a man so much older.
We spend the evening in the camping restaurant, which we don't really like. We stick to our opinion, but still find the evening fantastically beautiful and enjoy the get-together and the happy chatter. After we have been politely asked to leave (bill and lights off...) we drift to the pool bar, where there is disco and magic cocktails today. We laugh and talk. The Magic Cocktails must be quite a challenge for the strong, bare-breasted woman in her mid-fifties at the bar. Finally, Melilla and Gerd tell her what to put in the cocktails and for the sake of simplicity we take water, coke and caipirinha. That should be possible. It is.
All in all, it has been a wonderful evening, even a wonderful day, and we realise once again that when we travel, it is the encounters with people that enrich us so much. My heart leaps with excitement and I even have a little tummy tingle of joy in the evening. Gerd, however, thinks that the tingling in my stomach probably comes more from the caipirinha. I don't care, within a few seconds I'm fast asleep and completely refreshed and rested the next morning (Huiiii, departure...).
