Being disconnected for a couple of days, soaking up the winter sun, the ocean breeze and a great read was the best gift I could make myself. When it was quiet at night I didn’t take out my iPod to listen to my favourite songs; I focused on the sound of the ocean instead. The steady swoosh of the waves when everything else fell silent reminded me of cars on a highway. It was soothing to know that there was a different force behind it, natural and bigger than we’ll ever be.
We’ve found a friend on the first day– a golden dog with short legs and big tummy (I guess I’d look like that I were a dog). He bumped into us on our way to the ranch and we assumed he belonged to the owner of the place but he stayed with us when she left. Thrilled about the unexpected company, I called him Pedrito (best regards to my dear friend Milli 💕) and talked to him in a mixture of Spanish, English and German. I assumed he’d understand the affection in my voice better than any words.
He stuck with us, following us to the beach as if he was our dog. At some point he rubbed himself against a dead penguin and I jokingly told him to get a bath. He actually entered the cold stream then, and continued further and further. The current was strong. We realised too late that he was too far gone and watched helplessly while he drifted dangerously close to the ocean. He swam, approaching the other side only inch by inch. Luckily, there was an attentive guy who followed him on the shore and eventually helped him out of the stream. I was ashamed. The dog almost died and I didn’t do anything but watch stupidly – not that I could actually have done something in the first place.
We left when we saw that he was safe and sound, avoiding his rescuers even when they came back by a rowboat, afraid of their judgement. I was sad about the quick loss of our new friend, but mostly I was horrified about myself and glad he survived his swim. My love wrote “PEDRITO COME BACK HOME” in the sand– of course it was a joke, yet I hoped against reason he’d appear again. It’s only been a couple of hours, but it was nice having him around. I’ve never had a dog but I started to understand how it must feel like to have one.
The first night, I was scared to hell. I’m afraid of the dark. Here we were in this isolated little house, surrounded by nothing but nature, darkness and silence. It was cold, too, and I didn’t dare to leave my love out of sight, feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable. This remote place made me believe in monsters again. My imagination ran wild and I firmly pressed my eyes together when we went to sleep, trying to stop thinking of all the things that could happen while we were asleep and defenceless.
But the next morning came without incidents, bringing back life – sunshine, warmth, the chirping of birds and the occasional faraway barking of a dog. I opened the door to let the sunshine and fresh air into the dark house and here he stood, alive and well, stretching and yawning, looking at me as if I hadn’t kinda sent him into his almost-death the evening before. Pedrito. I squealed with joy, he came back and I was forgiven.
The next few days, he’d follow us wherever we’d go.
// Photos of days 3 & 4 coming soon. 🌟 I hope you’re having a lovely weekend ❤️