It finally happened. Yesterday, we setup camp at a river—a real river, complete with a small waterfall that looked like something out of a picture. It was everything I’d been hoping for: refreshing, beautiful, and just wild enough to feel like a reward for all the rough roads we’ve endured.
Even Nala got in on the action. She parked herself right by the water’s edge, precariously perched on rocks like she, too, needed a break. I think she just wanted to dip her toes in after all the kilometers she’s put in. (Honestly, if trucks could sigh with relief, Nala would’ve let out a long one.)
The best part of the day? A late departure this morning—12:30pm! Luxury! It gave us all time to do some much-needed washing and drying. I managed to wash nearly all my clothes, which is an accomplishment I’m embarrassingly proud of. My tent also got a much-needed airing out, though I’m not sure “fresh air” can defeat weeks of overland funk.
Of course, not all victories are complete. Two pieces of clothing will need a second round of washing before they’re wearable. It’s not stains; it’s the smell. At this point, though, I’ve given up on “clean” clothes entirely. The new standard is simply unsmelly. Every item I own, except for my sacred “embassy clothes,” is now some level of unrecoverably dirty. And I’ve made peace with it.
I am in this for the long haul, after all. By the end of this trip, I’m certain my wardrobe will just consist of various shades of dust and dirt, with a subtle eau de overland musk. My entire wardrobe will be brown by then, but hey, at least I won’t have to decide what to wear anymore.
Tonight, we’re camping in the grounds of a hotel. It’s quite pleasant, actually—plenty of space to spread out the tents, no rocks poking through the floor, and a general sense of calm. A perfect end to a day that started with a river and ended with a little slice of comfort. Here’s hoping for more days like this, they may not restore my clothes — but they do my soul
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