What if I just collapse in a lonely place?

Events of 26.06.2006

After a pleasant and above all painless night, we roll out of bed at 7:00 am. Before breakfast, we carry all the equipment to the bikes, which I check straight away. Meanwhile, Huib and his protégés prepare a sumptuous breakfast. It’s only when I bend over the bikes that I feel an all-consuming backache. I pump up a rear tire, tighten a few bolts and limp to the breakfast table, unhappy about my injured back. “Your cross?” asks Tanja when she sees me walking bent over like that. I nod dejectedly and lie down on the grass to mobilize myself. Suddenly a sharp pain shoots through my limbs again. I slowly get up and sit down at the table with the others. Huib also looks at me with concern. “Must really hurt?” he says questioningly. “Yes, very much. I think I hurt something in my fall yesterday.” “I’d love to offer you more hospitality, but I have to go to Bucharest tomorrow morning. I fly to Holland every month for about 5 to 10 days,” he explains apologetically. “No problem. We’ll be fine. We’ll set off in any case,” I reply, encouraging myself.

After breakfast, Huib suggests driving the trailers to the place where we met yesterday. “At least it saves you having to drag heavy equipment over the gravel roads and hilly landscape,” he says. At 9:00 am we get on our bikes and leave Mariuta. After just a few meters I feel pain that is almost unbearable. “I don’t know if it was a good decision to set off,” I say to Tanja, who is driving next to me on the empty village road. “Should we turn back?” “Huib won’t be here tomorrow. Maybe we can make it to Lehliu-Gara. We can check into the hotel there and wait until I’ve recovered from my injury,” I suggest. “If you can make it there?” “Let’s see,” I reply, agonizing more with every metre.

After about one kilometer, the pain becomes more aggressive. Rarely in my life have I felt something like this. My thoughts start to circle. What if I just collapse in a lonely place? What if we don’t reach Lehliu-Gara? Do I have a slipped disc? My God, how can it go on? How should I decide? “Turn around. Don’t drive another meter. That makes no sense. You have a safe haven at Huib. Don’t leave it. Don’t have any false ambition. Don’t go where there is no possibility of help for you,” my inner voice warns me. Or is it the voice of Mother Earth that has been making itself heard from time to time since our expedition to Australia? The voice with which I have had hours of highly interesting conversations in recent years. The voice of my teacher? My thoughts are spinning, whirling around. Weighing up the pros and cons, I come to no conclusion. As if a fuse has blown in my brain, I am unable to make a decision. Hunched over my bike, I can feel the beads of sweat running down my cheeks. “I think we should turn back,” I say abruptly. “Is it that bad?” “Yes, worse than I thought. It would be nonsense to drive on. We’d best turn back. We can pitch our tent in Huib’s garden. I’m sure he won’t mind,” I suggest. We are barely on the way back when Huib comes towards us with his four-wheeler. We explain the situation to him, whereupon he says: “Your bed is made for tonight. From tomorrow, you can stay in my garden as long as you like. Be my guests.”

When I arrive at Huib’s, I spend the whole day lying in his swing. I feel better again in the afternoon. To test my musculoskeletal system, I limp around the swimming pool a few times, where a handful of village children have been having fun for hours. The Voltaren suppositories seem to be working. “We can set off tomorrow,” I say confidently to Huib as we enjoy a delicious meal together in the evening.