They say you never know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
As I am writing this, I can still feel the remainder of a tear in the corner of my eye. I’m sitting on a park bench next to a tiny, beautiful French chapel, looking out over the village of Abriès in the early morning light. I am alone. Most importantly: I’m sitting here unwillingly.
This is not where I am supposed to be. I’m supposed to be about a mile down the path, hiking up to the Col du Malrif with my family. Unfortunately, I am unable to do so because my right knee hurts like hell with every step I take. Turns out that yesterday’s route was just a little long and ignoring my knee for the last hour was not the greatest idea. I was hoping the pain would vanish overnight, but today’s first 20 minutes made it painfully clear that there’s more to it than that.
And so I am now stranded here, gathering up the courage to return the way I came and ask to stay the night at the Gîte where we slept last night. The plan is to take the bus tomorrow to the next Rèfuge, where I will meet my dad and two sisters as they finish that day’s tour. There are two days left to walk to the car after that; we’ll have to see how my knee is doing by then to decide whether I can make it.
Right now, I feel sad, a little disappointed in myself (though I realize that I can’t help having a knee injury) and frustrated. But also, surprisingly, a little excited at the thought of traveling on my own. I’ve never been abroad by myself, let alone in a country where half the population refuses to speak English. This should be interesting.
Well. I’ll try not to wallow in self-pity too much today, but instead look at the bright side: I have more time (too much time) to read my books and send a postcard. I guess we all are unfortunate sometimes and just have to learn how to deal with it. Let’s see how I handle this!
Unmistakably Human 