A long drive, an even longer footpath, and not a signal for miles, probably. But then, you'd never check for one anyway. Not when you're here.
The first thing you'd do is store your rations. Mostly beverages and still-warm breads just purchased in the market at the bottom of the mountain, perfect to soak up the cherry butter and White Stilton the shop owner convinced you to buy.
It was an easy sell; once you leave the city, you become pretty agreeable.
Your Vanity Fair and New Yorker would be begging to be read, but first things first. Maybe some foam and your man's razor for an old-school shave in the sunshine.
You'd giggle midway through, feeling like a true pioneer woman, until you stopped, panicked a little, and tried frantically to remember if you'd packed your Molton Brown Gingerlily Bath Oil.
Okay. Perhaps pioneer woman was a stretch. As was thinking your bath water would be anything near hot. No worries; warmishly-cold water is wonderful for your pores.
At least that's what you'd tell yourself in between shivers. But in the end, you'd have to admit that a bath in the sunshine is one of life's little musts. As is a getaway just for yourself.
As your realtor, I highly recommend it.
As your realtor, I highly recommend it.
And now...on to those magazines, some Ray LaMontagne, and one Reese's Peanut Butter Cup that man at the market must've slipped in your bag. Delicious.
Gypsy on Wheels via Taverne-Agency.
