Depression is not an option
I can't say I slept badly, but of course your eyes are closed when you sleep. The truth is that this accommodation was depressing. On top of that, it started raining, which made everything even more depressing. The internet still wasn't working. Panka was just lying in her bed, and I think Zserbo sensed that something was going to happen because he didn't want to come inside. When the rain was just drizzling, he sat down by the car and waited patiently. "One thing is for sure: no one is going to leave without me!"
I asked the owner of our other accommodation near Monsanto if it was available for tonight. Fortunately, it was, so I listened to my own intuition and that of my dogs, packed everything, including the wet clothes, and wrote to the owner that we would be leaving a day early. I also wrote to him that the apartment was depressing, and it was not what I had expected. Inside, it was dark, and outside, the houses were stacked on top of each other, everyone in each other's faces, every last inch covered with stone. Brrrrrr....
As soon as we got in the car, we immediately felt better. The trip took two and a half hours, which was a breeze. What's more, the sun was shining here. Of course, we had to wander around here too, because their numbering system is like an exponential IQ test. I looked for the logic in it, but it was a lost cause. I wrote to the owner instead, saying that according to the GPS I was here, but according to the numbering system I wasn't, and asked if she could help. She sent me a picture of the door, and I found it in no time, because I had already spotted it two laps earlier. Well, this is much closer to my taste. What's more, there's heating here. True, it's an inverter, but it's still better than no heating at all like in the previous place. I had to wrap my nose last night so it wouldn't fall off in the morning.
There are stairs, but they're unpainted wood, they don't sparkle like in Monte Gordo, so Panka only whined once, "Mommy, help!" Now she comes down nicely without any fuss.
It's very interesting to see how they've calmed down too. They behave completely differently, much more relaxed than in the previous place. It's good that we didn't stay there.
We are in the church square and the bell tower is next to our house. I read in the reviews about the accommodation that it had a calming effect on some people, while others... ...well...um...didn't like it. The owner emphasized to me how important it is that the bells ring regularly every quarter of an hour, every hour, during mass, at baptisms, and at funerals, from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. I told her that it was fine, we have them at home too, and I like them. At first, the dogs thought it was our doorbell and started barking. Then I told them, no, it's the bell, and it will ring 605 times a day, even more on Sundays. Get used to it, that's how it is. By the third time, they didn't even move an ear.
At six o'clock in the evening, I went up to the hill next to the church, sat down facing the setting sun, with a glass of Pipacs és Pillangó Pince 2020 Cabernet Franc in my hand. I lifted it, swirled it in the glass, looked at its wonderful color, inhaled its beloved aroma, and thought of my darling David. I thought about our work together and the love and care we put into making this wine five and a half years ago. We made excellent wines that year, winning three gold and two silver medals. But that's not what's important. What's important are the many friends and good people who also saw the wonder and potential in it, and who enjoy it when they open a bottle, swirl it in their glass, inhale its aromas, and take a sip. They let this sip awaken their taste buds, they feel the unmistakable spiciness and roundness of Cabernet Franc. Oh, what a wine! My favorite, my muse, my pride. So I sat there, facing the setting sun, surrounded by my dogs, my beloved David in my heart, the taste of our fine wine in my mouth, and a multitude of happy memories in my mind.
In the evening, I finally caught up on my blog, making up for the days I had missed. And when I was pleasantly tired, I took the dogs out for one last walk. At the entrance to the church, a brown-robed priest and six or seven nuns(?) dressed in raven-black robes were talking. Wow, it was like I had stepped back into the Middle Ages. It was like a scene from a Ken Follett novel. Fortunately, they didn't appear in my dream.
