Ford of Glory

The last night was hard. In the full sense of the word, because my insulation mattress was broken. As flat as a flat tyre. "Gomma a terra", as the Italians say.

Thankfully, Gamin's former owners were able to help me out. They came by car and brought me their mattress. How fortunate!

There had been heavy rain at night. I had to pack a soaking wet tent.

Today' stage of the journey was not easy to handle. At first, there came enchanted forest paths between oak trees covered in moss. The air was hot and full of scents. The path led down into a ravine, as deep as the subconciousness of the world.

The "bridge" was nothing but an old tree trunk and a rope as a handrail.

There was no other way. We had to go through the ford. Our first real obstacle.
For a split second I wanted to make a telephone call in order to complain or to call for help ... But it was clear: we were alone in this deep ravine and had to tackle it.
I took a couple of steps into the water. Gamin stood at the river bank and refused to move, as it was expected. I stood in the water, called and pulled on the lead. This went on for a while.
Suddenly I saw him gathering his courage. He jumped once, twice, three galloping steps, and we were on the other side.

I praised him extensively, and we shared an apple. We had made it! There is hardly anything more beautiful than having an animal as an accomplice. Slowly we are becoming a team.

The path went steeply uphill again. We climbed out of the ravine and reached a mountainside with blossoming trees and vast meadows.

Below in the next valley we could see the Rhône, Arras and further behind more mountains, the Vercors in the shadows. Somewhere behind this impressive horizon lies Apulia.

The descent to Arras meant that we had to take dangerously steep paths, often not wider than 20 centimetres. I concentrated on the cactuses and the stones in the sand in order to not look down into the deep abyss.
Gamin managed everything well.
We crossed the Arras dam. One more river was behind us.
We became very tired.

Finally we found a small place at the river bank of the Rhône, which we had been shown by the folks from a motorcycle garage. And this is where the tent is now pitched. We can hear the boats on the river.

This is the real bohemian life, walking between worlds. A great day with wonderful sceneries is coming to an end.