How to Wash the River-water from Your Trousers
My travel blooper reel of sorts. From no shoes to calamity in water…how am I going to get myself out of this one? (Part 1 of 2)
Dear Reader, a while ago I was on holiday with my family to celebrating my sister graduating from university. As one would think vacation is supposed to be a time away from the daily grind — also seen as a time for reflection and relaxation — to recharge your batteries and mind. Within recent times, I do not fall into this category. Here is why: something always seems to go wrong.
My parents took my siblings and me on many trips overseas. These trips contains many fond memories for the whole family. But as I and my siblings got older, it was no longer feasible to take the entire family as often as responsibilities grew, restrictions of when to travel also increase and work/school schedules often collide.
In my early 20's I planned and went on solo vacations in seasons and climates from the usual wet and dry season of the Caribbean.
Even after many years, I am willing to admit that I have not yet found the formula of a kick-ass solo vacation in my eyes.
Not discouraged though, I am grateful for all the logistical and event planning that my parents did time after time. Being a kid then, I could not care any less about logistics, details and plans. Everything had seemed perfect under one particular habit of mine took centre stage.
Enter the flip-flop/sandals curse.
I cannot seem to run away from the need to buy another pair of sandals every time I am on vacation. All too familiar with the sound of pop and the straps snapping against my feet, many mall floors and car parks’ asphalt recognize my footprints immediately as a result of this curse.
Murphy’s Law just could not leave me out from its cross hairs. Dear future husband, if you are reading this, just know the numerous pairs of shoes that I pack are therefore justified. In any case or suitcase for that matter, ninety-five percent of the time I over-pack. This is one of the main underlying factors for my tendency return with a suitcase bear hugging the baggage allowance. As for the other reasons, I will reserve the other reasons for now as some of my family members read my stories.
Coming back to the family vacation that I mentioned at the beginning, I was lulled into a false sense of security. My sandals stopped dying on me for a few vacations now and I thought that Murphy was done with me forever. I must say it felt good for a while. It was one week before sis’ graduation and my best friend Petunia* who is studying for her PhD in the UK. Seeing that we were in the same country, meeting up seemed like a no-brainer. The mission was simple, we would become tourists for a week. I wrote previously on our time in Scotland with part 2 lingering in my drafts. However, this part of the journey is after we return to London from Scotland to complete our last leg so to speak.
I accompanied my friend back to Cambridge and I would sleep at her place for the night and make my way to Bath the following afternoon. While in Petunia’s dorm, Petunia suggested that we go punting on the river ourselves. We went punting before but with a guide. I agreed, what was the worst that could happen? Plus Petunia’s eyes gleamed at the chance to showcase her improved punting skills and was enthusiastic for me to have a go at it.
Morning after, we arrived at one of the colleges and rented a boat for 10 pounds. I left my army green duffel and phone in care of the rental office as a wise decision not to crowd the punt. Petunia was excited to prepare for our voyage keeping in mind that my bus to London would be departing around 13:55. My thinking was that we would punt for 1 to 1.5 hours and afterward I would make my way to the bus stop. Soon we were ready to embark the boat.
Getting into the boat was no small feat with my fear of falling weighing heavily on my mind. Whew, we got into the boat with no casualties. My friend started us off taking command of the pole and entrusting me with the paddle. Petunia made it look easy and only a handful of times I had to correct our direction with the paddle. A third of the way in she asked to switch places. My heart was in my throat as the transition from sitting down in the cradle to standing on the back of the punt made me so nervous and wobbly. After careful considerations and effort, I made it and breathed a sigh of relief. My nerves were soon back again as I then had to balance my weight on this moving vessel. Praying for my legs not to forsake me, I begin to quiver in my sneakers to only have the pain from days prior hit me like a freight truck.
It was concentrated at the bottom of my flat feet, taking this from a pleasant boat ride to a grueling test of endurance. Unfamiliar with any technique of steering this boat it was not long before we collided with other tourist boats in the river.
Sorry was our catchphrase and the stone bridges were our friends.
One “helpful” gentleman dryly offered his advice: “Madam, the pole has a rudder you know”. Meandering and making death defying switches all along, we managed to turn the boat around to chart course back to the starting point. In front of a busy riverside cafe, the water was very deep and murky. The pole was not touching the riverbed. I panicked. My body lean and rudder combo was not working. The boat was not propelling forward despite our best efforts and we were headed into an assembly of parked boats.
Luckily a passing guide gave us a solid push in the right direction and cheers erupted behind us as we finally glided under the bridge. Petunia and I laughed it off how silly we must have looked trying to steer our boat away from crashing. We were a source of entertainment for them and they were good sports about it. Their encouragement fueled us to finish the course gaining more confidence along the way. We arrived safely at the docks to disembark. Petunia said that I should go first as I was the stronger one to pull the boat in and chain it to the deck. Because the back of the punt was long, I decided that a sheepish one dainty leg up approach was not going to cut it.
Can you see where this was going now?
I had made a leap for it. The boat bobbed up and drifted back a bit. As a result, most of me was on the pavement with my arms and one leg holding me up. The other was — you guessed it — in the muddy murky river-water with the fishes. Petunia was in shock and asked if I needed any help but she was smaller and not as strong. I tried to pull my leg up but I was exhausted. My Amazon / Miss Independent strength was not there for me to tap into and there was only one way out that I could think of. Letting my dry leg drop in with the other, I managed to waddle away from in between our boat and the pavement to avoid being squeezed. Wedging myself between the boats, I held onto either side to lift one leg out of the water and push my bottom towards the bank to hop up. With success, I was able to get both legs up and on shore to then secure the boat.
Now let us review the basic equations of before and after:
Outfit (Head to Toe)= shirt + jeggings + socks + sneakers + underwear
Ridiculous Leap of Faith (RLF) = Loss of Outfit (Torso to Toe)
Result after RLF (Dry) = Outfit (Head to Torso)
Luckily, I did some laundry that morning as for some reason this trip I tried the minimal amount of packing but I only had one pair of shoes and socks. Surely National Express would not appreciate my current fashion statement and I cannot stand being in soggy shoes and socks.
Being a programmer at a heart, I began to declare my parameters and formulate ideas.
Parameters:
- Current time: 12:55
- Clothes Required: Shoes & Socks (possibly a dress)
- Clothing Alternative: Wear dirty jeans with clean other articles
- Where to get clothes: Athletic clothing store nearby (insight provided by Petunia)
- Distance to Petunia’s place: 20 mins walking (before exhaustion)
- Distance to bus station: 15 minutes walking, 8 minutes driving
Parameters Set. Possible Methods Mapped.
It was then time to execute Plan A: Buy Shoes and Socks and Change Off
It has been a while, thank you for reading. As you can see, my vacations are hardly uneventful in some way but I had to split this one into two parts. The second part will be released next Thursday. As always, I would like to hear from you. You can email me at jordan.alyss@gmail.com, follow me here on Medium or on Instagram: @becomingobsidian. See you next time!
Bonus: Picture of me and my struggle
