Still in Cinque Terre

That's right...the McRobbies are still here.  I (Austin) have personally fallen in love with the place.  Like mad high school crush in love.  Don't call the moving truck yet....unless a Mexican food stand opens nearby.  But still pretty amazing.

In fact, we even tried to leave last week.  That's right, we packed up our tent and heavy Deuter bags, found a helpx host in Tuscany, and caught the graffiti covered trenitalia headed towards small town Montepulciano.  Our hostess, a middle aged Italian woman, picked us up twenty minutes late from our arrival station and took us to her gorgeous property up in the hills.  She seemed nice enough initially, and left us at our room to settle in.  Waves of loneliness crashed on us in the room; despite our hopes, leaving Cinque Terre and our beloved, friendly Vernazza was growing into a stormy looking choice.  Oh well, I thought, let's make the best of it.  We settled in, and then strolled around the property, and found a cool outdoor bookshelf and dining table.  Perusing the books, we hardly noticed our hostess making dinner, except for her request to set the table.  And then the storm hit, as she expressed strong disapproval at our not helping with dinner (oops, I guess we could have offered, our bad, first night and still finding our bearing I suppose).  Ok, not a big deal, I could see someone being upset, let's move right?  No.  She continuously mentioned our lacking in helping our dinner, pointing to the fact that this is not a B&B, and we are there to help.  Ok, point made, our bad, we will help, water under the bridge?  Umm, no.  She then made utter mince meat of just about every purpose or dream in our trip, finding details to criticize and challenge.  Neither of us have ever felt so directly insulted or demeaned, it was almost comical.  Almost.  We tucked our tails and put up with it all dinner, as each flung remark furthered our regret of leaving peaceful Cinque Terre and hardened our resolve of leaving this God forsaken farm of forgone human compassion.  Needless to say, we promised each other we would work the next day to be polite (perhaps we are too polite?) and then declare our departure.  The next day was worse, starting with more insults about starting late at 9 am (the night before she insisted we start when we want), and constant putdowns our farm capabilities.  Kindra finally said, yeah we are leaving, which she readily accepted.  We packed our bags, happily walked down the road (no way she was gonna give us a ride), and hitchhiked back to the train station (nice older guy picked us up, some redemption to our temporary fuming contempt with Italians).  Sweating and wounded, we connected on the train ride back with each other and God, reevaluating our trip values and swearing never to helpx again (that will probably change). 

So, we are back!  It's different here in Vernazza, but still our beloved Italian escape.  I am learning the deep needs of my heart to rest, to relax, to feel, to enjoy, not to add more guilt or checklists to my life.  So many stories to share, but I guess I can't type them all (well, I could, but that wouldn't be fun), so you'll have to ask about them when we return :)

We are probably headed to Switzerland next, I had a dream about Interlaken the beauty of its nearby Alps, and it inspired me to consider getting there for my birthday.  What a place to wild camp and hike and breath fresh Alpine air, and eat chocolate and drink fresh milk and....ok I don't know about you but I ready to head there now!

Have a great day wherever you are reading this, smell the roses and enjoy something you love!

Switzerland, the land of happy dreams.