The Red Umbrella

The forecast for the day the night before was not promising. It looked like it would rain the entire day. But following “no bad weather, just bad clothes,” I decided I could bike in my bathing suit and Tevas and raincoat (really, I have no fashion shame whatsoever!) and just accept whatever the weather had to offer. 

 

When I came down to breakfast the news was— it’s not going to rain after all!

I put shorts over the bathing suit, wore my raincoat for warmth and “just in case” preparation and we got an early start at 8:30 am. 

 

We began our ascent up the mountain, six miles of uphill and here’s where I might as well confess— we all have electric bikes. I do believe we could have done it without it, but all five of us are in our 70’s and why not make things just a bit easier? Truth be told, I prefer “acoustic” bikes for flatland and downhill, but it sure is sweet to get that extra “turbo” charge going uphill. It felt like rising in an airplane as we saw the clouds in the valley below us. 

 

When we reached the apex and started off downhill, we downshifted to Eco mode with stunning views of idyllic green valleys ringed by distant mountains. Karen’s paneer fell off her bike and rolled down into the woods, but luckily there was a path that allowed us to retrieve it. We stopped briefly at the small village of Sorica, next to a statue honoring an artist. I’m always impressed with the way Europe attends to its poets and artists and musicians and writers. Believe me, it’s a big contrast to the U.S., where Louis Armstrong’s birthplace was razed for a freeway, Duke Ellington’s birthplace torn down for a Fed Ex building, Art Tatum all but unknown in his home town of Toledo (except for the black neighborhood that named a library after him.). 

 

On we went, our longest ride yet (50 kilometers), moving back between dedicated biking paths and roads shared with fast vehicles. At one point, I came up from the back to see Gerri laid out on the ground entangled with her bicycle and not moving. Really alarming, to say the least! She missed noticing the curb down from the bike path to the street and took a tumble. We gathered around and slowly extricated her from the bike and it was a genuine miracle that nothing was broken or sprained, just a few minor scrapes. The bike itself was fine, as was her phone. Five minutes of taking some breaths and walking a little and she was back on her bike. Scary and a reminder to us all to be careful!

 

It was sunny or mildly overcast the entire four hours it took us to arrive to our destination village of Skopja Loka. By now it was 70 degrees (Fahrenheit) and sunny and I changed to a short sleeve shirt. We settled in our rooms and got ready to walk to Old Town for lunch and Boom!! Boom!!, there was the thunderstorm we had avoided. Time to get out the red umbrella.

 

The night before, I looked for my umbrella to take to dinner and couldn’t find it. Decided I must have left it at the restaurant from the previous night. So went back there to ask, they didn’t have it, but offered me a red umbrella they had in the lost and found, probably for months. It was a sweet gesture from nice people and so I happily took it. Went back to my room to pack and sure enough, there was the umbrella I brought from San Francisco tucked away in my suitcase! But since the red umbrella was smaller and lighter and had a nice personal association, I opted to leave the other one. 

 

So now it came in handy as we walked from our Mini-Hotel into Old Town in search of lunch and sure enough, it began raining. A lovely repast, walked up to the castle with its museum, expansive view and lovely row of linden trees where young women used to be educated under their branches. Crossed the famous old bridge, back to the hotel again and out to dinner. The weather remained a rondo form of rain, no rain with clouds, rain, brief sun, rain. And so my red umbrella and I were quite happy.

 

So ended Day 3.