Читать книгу No One Said It Would Be Easy - Des Molloy - Страница 50
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no one said it would be easy
get on … we’re travellers not tourists … far superior! This was now the ‘real deal’ or at least the beginning of it. We were naturally quite excited. Our little crew was gelling beautifully with Lawrie’s amusing, laid-back ways keeping the spirits high, and Roly’s fastidious maintenance regime keeping the wheels spinning. As titular head, and keeper of The South American Handbook, my role was to keep us heading the right way, to look up what we might encounter along the way and impart this knowledge to all.
Monterrey introduced us to city camping. Camping to us had always meant nice green spaces, either ones we found ourselves or the lovely American State and National Parks. This was our first encounter with the philosophy that camping meant caravans or motorhomes, not tents. To this end, the areas available were all either sealed or hard-packed gravel, ideal for vehicular movement, not for tents or tent pegs. Very much here we were second-class citizens unrealistically wanting a grassed area to put up our humble shelter. Monterrey was an important pause for us as it was a ‘mail’ stop. It was with great excitement that we rode the bus into the centre of the city in search of the Poste Restante. The Poste Restante mail service was traditionally the only way that travellers could receive mail and was simplicity itself. The service was provided by the main Post Office of a city or town. They had a repository to hold mail. No address was needed because the Post Office was in effect delivering to itself. So Steph and others had been told to send mail to the Poste Restante, Monterrey, Mexico. We all got mail and for me, it was wonderful getting a letter from Steph even though it didn't have much to tell me, but sure filled the cockles with much warmth. A letter from home told us that Roly and I now had a second niece, born on Christmas Eve. Mum also passed on the wisdom ‘keep well, and always think things through, as often that saves a few mistakes’. She also urged me to ‘try and spare a line or two for us pensioners won’t you, and tell us either where you’ve been or where you’re likely to go … and then we’ll feel part of our family still.’ Grammatically not up to her usual high standard but I felt for them. They had just had their 38th Wedding Anniversary and their first ever Christmas with no off-spring present.
There had been no news from Anne so we were unsure of her movements or likely rendezvous point and time. Steph was still in London, trying to get a visa arranged to be able to go to Saudi Arabia for a short stint with the nice Arab family she had worked with earlier. It seems that the action of the NZ Government in