14/01/2021
When at last the heavy doors groaned closed and our large bus lurched first into reverse then edged forward, pausing just a moment before pulling out of the busy depot in the midsized southern Serbian town of Lescovak, I nervously pinched the metal rib of my mask for the umpteenth time, squeezing it tightly around the bridge of my nose; an action that has easily become habitual again after my many years as a hygienist.
I sank deeply into the cool slippery deep dark blue seat enjoying its cocooning sensation and noting with some surprise that it appeared to be made of leather.
Meeting eyes with Ry across the aisle, we both smiled, glad to be on our last leg of this two day journey and relieved that although nearly a half an hour late and pulling into the wrong lane, our bus had indeed arrived and we had found it.
If the rometorio website was right, and it usually is Iโve learned, our trip would last about an hour and a quarter.
I studied my surroundings pleased to have a foot rest and no other person save Ry, anywhere close by. The coach that could probably handle 60-80 passengers, only had a handful.
Moving into a state of blissful calm as quickly as the bus moved into the darkness, leaving the understated city lights, there still lingered just enough glow in the sky reflecting off the snow to be able to make out the rapid transition to spacious nature and distanced small clusters of old tiled roofed buildings some of plaster, some timbers.
As the bus climbed into the hills the windows became frosty and the view much darker and limited. The turns became more hairpin in nature forcing the long bodied carriage to slow to a creep as it made the hazardous adjustments. The drop offs were obscured from view and left to the imagination.
Quite early on in the journey, my signal dropped completely. This did not come as a surprise to me as I knew we were heading to a very remote area, just a stoneโs throw from the Kosovo border. It was nonetheless a little bit of a disappointment and clearly an inconvenience. I only paid $5 for a monthโs worth of internet so at least it wasnโt a costly one.
Fortunately, Iโm in the habit of opening the map system and trying to download as much detail as possible, by boring in. Usually this will insure I can still follow our little blue dot along and know when to get off.
In this situation, that spot was to be at a particular hotel and I had been recommended by our Airbnb host to request the bus to stop there.
I had tried to put in that request when weโd climbed aboard but the driver responded with just an uninterpretable head shake and arm motion that clearly meant take a seat.
Undaunted and un-offended, I had done as I was told. I donโt take these moments personally. Many react thus when confronted with a foreign language speaker.
As I sat and watched the progression through the mysterious mountainous hillsides, I marveled at how completely at my ease I felt. Despite an inability to make a phone call or send a message, without any assurance of anything being open in this very small community of under 400 where we were going, without an actual address (this is a new listing that hasnโt yet worked out some details- the location link puts it several hundred miles away from where itโs supposed to be), despite the cold, I felt completely relaxed, even to the point of a sense of bliss.
My confidence came from knowing that Ry and I can deal. Many years of adventure has confirmed that belied. It also came from believing that our host was truly caring. This is not always the case, but typically is. She had been responsive and cordial thus far. I trusted her.
As we approached the spot on the map that indicated where I believed her to have told me we should disembark, I got up, picked up my smallish backpack and moved a bit forward on the bus so as the driver would notice me.
Smooth as silk, he glided to a stop, cranked open the door allowing a big gust of frosty air to pour in and gave us a farewell nod as we climbed off.
As quickly as I could turn my head, there appeared a lovely smiling face of a fortyish woman dressed warmly in a knee length coffee colored suede coat with a generous fluffy collar.
She commanded but a few words in English, all that were needed to guide us the short walk to our studio and show us the ropes.
She clearly felt embarrassed and concerned that the internet wasnโt working and warned that the power could go out showing us where we could find candles and a small propane camp burner.
She also explained that she lived in another town that she gets to by bus, but led us to another building and showed us a buzzer we could use to reach someone if we needed help.
With portable radiator giving off a nice wall of warmth, lots of blankets, comfy bed and pillow, my sweetie, a gorgeous view of a sweet lit up little church on a hill looking out across a winter wonderland, I let go off all the worldโs worries currently beyond my control, curled up and easily drifted off into deep sleep grateful for
my life and looking forward to dawn of a new day and the surprises it may hold.
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If youโd like to read more about my travels, adventures Iโve had, people Iโve met, challenges Iโve overcome, tips on traveling light for the greatest freedom, Iโve started a self published series of ebooks. To purchase a downloadable PDF (no special reader needed):
https://rhondarecreates.bigcartel.com/product/tipsandtalesvolumeone
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