Weekday Blues

 

I got a message from my sister whose wedding I went to in Scotland telling me about their honeymoon in Italy, sunny but slightly out of season because she’s smart, and the exchange ended with her having to go to work. I went to have a swim, such is life in retirement.

A few new campers arrived Monday but not enough to replace the exodus that left for work and regular lives back home at the start of the week. We lost our morning shade when our Argentine neighbors departed in their 24 foot Sprinter van heading home to their retirement lives in Cordoba Argentina.

They are seen driving past one of the communal grills, common facilities in campgrounds across southern South America. They gave us a bottle of wine and we promised to stop in and see them when we are in their neck of the woods in Central Argentina. “We have a spot to park your van,” Laura assured us.

You’d better believe we’ll be there. Cordoba is an interesting city by reputation and they are really kind people. However their departure leaves us as the only foreigners in the campground; we are decidedly off the path beaten by overlanders.

So now they are gone I have to put out our shower sheet, the privacy curtain we use between the back doors for public showering, to keep the sun off us in the morning. But aside from our new solar exposure the beaches are much more empty on a weekday  as you might expect. 

I took these pictures walking Rusty around seven in the morning so during the course of the day a few idle souls showed up to enjoy some beach solitude. 

I met a guy taking his morning walk and we fell into a discussion about language as my Portuguese is improving a little. We ended up speaking Italian as his mother like mine was from there. The coincidences that  cross our paths are always surprising. We parted like old friends and this I forgot to take his photograph. 

Sunday night we (I actually) grilled pork chops on our collapsible German Scotti grill so I had that to clean the morning after, then there were the dishes, the floor mats to shake out  and the floor to sweep. 

It’s not all beer and skittles living van life in Brazil. Then we had to swim and have lunch, read a book and take a nap and of course before our next swim, and then walk Rusty past the now nearly empty day use parking lot.

Rinse and repeat for the next few days  while we watch the solar panels charge our batteries by day and listen to our almost silent air conditioning lull us to sleep at night. Tough life indeed, this retirement.