What a difference a bowl of pasta makes!!! But more on that shortly.
Ascent – 1139m. Distance – 28.4km
Today is my dads birthday. When he was angry he used to stick his tongue out. (You had to bite your own not to find it slightly funny.) But that was him at his worst and I don’t think I saw him do it in his last ten years. He was genuinely the most affable person I think I have ever met. He could fill a room with laughter, harmony and fun. He had no agenda. Not once did I see him actively set out to harm anyone. The only thing he ever really did wrong was leave. He just was and is my dad. Happy birthday and thank you.
Now, before I short-circuit the electronics on my phone as I have a little (happy) weep, about that pasta!!!
Image – purple iris taken a few days before I left at our house – my dads favourite flower (Mum will kill me if I’m wrong)
So maybe a diet of peanut butter tortilla and instant noodles isn’t as wholesome a balanced diet as I was thinking. Last day or so I have been a tad weary of leg and foot in truth, putting it down to cumulative impact. then I come across my first proper village (Scoffera I think) with a truly delightful cafe/restaurant in the square (more street actually). . Aside from a Refugio thats 7 days away from almost any habitation – I’m like a kid in a sweet shop.
And what a result.
Pasta con pesto to die for. It was that good. Washed down with pudding and two coffees. (At this point I should note that I weened myself off coffee before leaving for fear of caffeine withdrawal headaches). My god it was good. Sooooo good.
Having met the delightful Bruno and – eventually – paid the very friendly staff (I will return for sure) I was off again. Reluctantly (maybe I could just stay a day or two and take up Bruno’s offer to stay over and meet the English guests he had coming and see his garden).
Now the hills were still there but suddenly seemed flat. I strolled them. Romped even. Energy bursting from every pore. Cooking on gas – ney induction! The afternoon, still no bimble , became a pleasure. I was flying again. Souring above villages way below. Up in the clouds. Laughing and living. With my dad.
Good Food. Deliverer of heroes. Or was it the coffee… or just a freak. Time will tell but for now, pasta, food for kings. I’m back 🙂