Tuesday, October 19, 2010

the fifteen miles stroll

It must be the 11th mile when I started dragging myself. By the 13th mile I had this queer feeling that I will not make it. When the youth hostel finally materialized at the other side of the river, I was incapable of joying. Another 10 minutes, which felt like an hour, went by before I filled the forms, collected my bed sheets and checked into my room. I must have rushed into the bath.

The hot water coming out of the shower were drops of pleasure as my legs and brain recovered back to sensation. Walking was painful in the beginning. A pleasant combination of warm sun and cooling breeze welcomed me outside the hostel. I bought a few bananas from the nearby Coop store and settled at a round wooden bench in front of the sea. I have always loved the kind of landscape that Norwegian Fjords epitomize. Sky high hills suddenly give way to water.

I reflected back at the very morning when I started walking downhill from Myrdal for Flam. It was an act of innocence and had its rewards and pitfalls. I would cherish both of them. They add to the beauty of life - pain and pleasure. Pain makes pleasure a little bit more fun.

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