Living For Free – Part 7

Pappy had given me a wristwatch. I think it was because I kept looking at his watch. It was an old lady’s watch. At first, I thought it didn’t work because the next morning it lost time, and later it stopped altogether, but then I had the idea to wind it up, and now it works: an ecological watch. How great! Although I still prefer living without a watch at all.

Last week I was back with Luc in his caravan. With the new African tablecloth over the bedside table and a candle, I immediately felt comfortable. I had been to Pappy’s place before, and brought all the dairy products I had found the night before, because, miraculously, there was a fridge there. Luc’s girlfriend came to get it and said, referring to me, “Oh, she’s still here.”

“She’s still jealous,” Thierry commented. He then gave me a four-kilometre ride to the caravan.

I told him about the noise in the bushes last time.

“I am sure it is a fox.”

I thought so too. Meanwhile, he saw a mouse crawling under the shelf.

“I’ve got nothing against mice. Yesterday I was just observing a little mouse in the city. It was so cute.”

It’s strange, but I’m always glad when I get to the trailer. I don’t know what’s wrong. Whether it’s because I often get there after sunset or because I’ve got a long walk across the fields…

It was great in the caravan. As it is located at the edge of the village, I could hardly see any houses from there, only the countryside. A mountain range on one side, another mountain range on the other side, otherwise only vineyards, meadows with tall grass and trees; that was all. No running water, no electricity. Only wood from the next tree for cooking and candles, it felt a bit like paradise there, and I felt like Robinson Crusoe.

The only thing was the stupid neighbours. They didn’t want anyone to use the only little path that led to the property. The woman forbade me to use it, then it was said that if they were there, and that was usually the case on weekends, I had to walk through the meter-high grass of another neighbouring property. That was unpleasant and annoying.

But again, my luck lasted only for a short time. The next morning, I took a shower near the tap with my five-litre bottle and hitch-hiked back into town. I had seen a sign the day before:

“Maid urgently needed, with CV at hotel …” .

I could not get it out of my mind. In winter, I looked for exactly the same job I had done when I was young, but, of course, winter was outside the season.