In all fairness a road trip is a metaphor for life.  We live in perpetual motion, moving forward and going from place to place.  Our time is spent through journeys in our space, through the time of our lifespan. Alone or with others, planned or unplanned journeys are to happen.  That is life as it is.

Sometimes of course a road trip is nothing more than an actual trip in a countryside, quickly to be forgotten replaced by the next one!  On this occasion, I shall try to narrate it as it happened, as it is fresh in my mind and the images can be vividly recalled.  Maybe in future it would serve as a reminder, but on this occasion, it is merely a reminder of a very odd trip!  At this stage, I would like to state that no humans nor animals were hurt during this road trip. 

I am driving on one of the island’s country roads, the road is narrow going through the lush pine forest, some sycamore trees on the side.  The track is leading up and down the mountainous path.  The scenery is scenic and probably the reason people choose it.  The road alternates views from the forest, the valleys, the canyons and the sea in the distance.  Hues of green, and blue everywhere; and the smell.  The pines joined with thyme and other fragrant herbs, a combination that gives the air that scent I cannot describe. The light blue of the sky meet the Aegean blue in the distance.  

As per usual, on a road trip I prepare my maps, and plan the route in advance, but just in case I also keep an eye on the road in case there is a change.  On this occasion, the public works are working wonders; the street signs are non-existent so I opted out.  Interestingly instead of traffic information there were signs but not about the road ahead.  Somewhere is the midst of the journey there is the first sign about Jesus.  According to the sign “He is the truth, the way and the life”.  I am unsure about the destination, but at least Jesus is aware.  The next couple of signs involve Jesus and his teachings whilst the last one is making me feel a bit uncomfortable.  “Jesus died for your sins” it proclaims!  Ok fair enough, let’s say that he did.  Any chance of knowing also whereabouts I am and where I am heading.  The route continues with further signs until we come to a stop. 

Finally, more signs.  On this occasion there are some holy sites and monasteries.  One of them is of a Saint most revered that apparently most of his body rests in a nearby location, (minus an arm and a shin).  Later, I discover the Saint helps sick children and those who suffer from cancer.  Admirable, considering that he’s almost 300 years dead. Still no actual traffic information on the road!  At least the signs got me reading of a fascinating man long gone.  It is fascinating reading on beliefs and miracles.  Within them they hold peoples’ most secret expectations, those that under normal circumstances, they dare not to speak about.  This is a blog post for another time; back on the road trip and almost two hours on the journey.     

At this point, a herd of cows who have been lunching on the side of the road, decided to take a nap on the road.  To be honest, it is only one of them who is blocking the way, but the rest are near idly watching.  At this stage, I come to a stop waiting for the cow to move.  The cow who was napping opened her eyes and looks at me, I look back, she looks away and continues to lay motionless in the middle of the road.  I briefly evoke the Saint.  Nothing.  I am contemplating Jesus and still nothing.  After some time, around an hour of cow staring I am going for my last resort.  I get out of the car and promise that unless the cow moves, I shall part with vegetarianism.  Now I am openly threatening the cow to eat her.  This is when nature retaliates.  A flock of goats join the cow.  They meander around me and the stubborn bovine.  The road is now akin to a petting zoo. 

I employ a trick I picked up from cowboy films.  I raise my hat, luckily, I am wearing a hat, weaving my arms furiously and making sounds.  The cow is despondent at first and the goats just talk back.  After a few minutes I have managed to get the cow to move and the goats are now at the side of the road.  That’s my opportunity to leave.  As I turn back, I notice another car behind me; they are also travelers who begin to applaud my efforts at husbandry.  The road is clear, and I am on my way. 

The next hour is less eventful although the road is still hairpinned; now it’s heading downwards and from the mountains its heading to the sea.  I arrive at the sea way over the expected time and I manage to find a spot to park.  One the wall, next to the spot someone wrote “you vote for them every four years like cows”.  The writing is black, so I assume an anarchist, or maybe the author had a similar driving experience to me, or it’s just an unfortunate metaphor.    The sea is cool and the views of the sea and in the distance a group of islands, spectacular.  There are hot springs near by but in this weather the sea is more than enough.  After all that drive, a stop at a local taverna is inevitable.  Speciality dish mosxaraki or beef stew!  I think the Saint is testing me! 

On the way back, the road is empty.  The cows rest on the side of the road.  I slow down, I look out…they look away.  At a local coffee shop a patron asks for the Covid-special coffee.  I suppose a joke about the thing that occupies everyone’s mind.  He doesn’t wear a mask and doesn’t seem to believe this pandemic “nonsense”.  I was wondering if he is related to the stubborn cow.  The trip ended and it formed another of those planned road trips.  There was nothing spectacular about it.  There is however the crux of my point. Like life, most of our roadtrips are unspectacular on their own.  It is what we remember of them that matters.  In the last months millions of people went into lockdown.  Their lives seemed to stand still; a road trip can also be a metaphor, provided we don’t forget the details.