I was curled up on the couch, watching some travel programme, snuggling under the duvet, glancing out the window every once in a while to see if it was still snowing. I was comfortable. I was happy. At 4.30pm, I hear a distressed voice. “We’ve been at home the whole day, lets just go for a drive somewhere and then we can catch the six thirty movie”. I conceded.
Driving along in the Jeep, chewing the cud, as you do. Diego comments, “Oh, look, that area there is called la cassa d’espansione, when it rains really hard or when the melted snow starts coming down from the mountains and the river overflows, the extra water flows into this huge area, which was covered with water just a week ago. Today it’s empty, let’s check it out”. We drive up the ramp onto the embankment, drive a few metres along until we reach another ramp going down into this isolated expanse of area closed in by another embankment next to the river. It is becoming dark and has started snowing again.
We drive onto a plain of clay-like mud. “Oh cazzo”, I hear my husband say. This is not a good sign. The Jeep starts skidding and sliding all over the place, mud being thrown in the air, and then we were STUCK.IN.THE.MUD, in an isolated area with no-one in sight on a cold and snowy Sunday evening! “Lock yourself in the car, I am going to get help!” he says grabbing his jacket. I look into the rear view mirror and see him disappear into the dark, cold night air.
The first isolated house he came across was inhabited by a Chinese family. They closed the door in his face. After walking for about another 15 minutes, he came across a bar/coffee shop. By this time drenched and shivering with cold, he described his plight to the handful of locals enjoying an aperitif before dinner. Orfeo, an artisan of about 40 years old, offered to see what he could do to help. Nearly half an hour later, I heard their voices as they approached the Jeep. He said there was nothing he could do but he knew a farmer with a tractor who lived about a 20 minute drive away. He called Daniele. A jovial, thirty something-ish, arrived almost within 20 minutes, laughing, saying, “Chi è il cretino che ha fatto questa?” Diego sheepishly saying it was him.
Daniele alluded to the fact that there was a hotel down the road and that we didn’t have to go to this extreme to, you know, get the Jeep all steamy windowed. We laughed. Then he says, “But signora, I know you. You work at the local fruit shop”. My attempts to tell him that it was not me went unnoticed. Daniele was convinced. The poor girl, who looks like me, who works at the local, one-horse town fruit shop is going to have a very interesting reputation from now on! LOL.
The tractor pulled the Jeep out with very little effort. We were very relieved! We paid Daniele for his time and diesel, offered Orfeo a quick drink and then went home. Nearly 3 hours later. We didn’t get to see the movie, but the next time Diego wants to go for a little drive and I am cosy and snug on the couch, I’ll remind him of our costly, muddy little adventure in a town called Motta.
Here are some pictures, they aren’t very clear, due to weather conditions, but they give a general idea. The first three taken without the flash and the last one with the flash. The little white dots are snow flakes.
