Cross Country Trek Au Natural

After our embarrassing incident, Laura and I trekked across the Italian countryside looking for, well, anything at all. We move across the unbridled nature and lush fields of vegetation around these hills.

The branches on the bushes prickle my arms and legs as I push them aside, the ground beneath my feet alternating between uncomfortably hard and disgustingly muddy, bugs buzz all over my ears, and I’m covered in sweat… It’s getting hard to appreciate the little things in nature.

It has been a silent walk, more so than usual. Our little campfire wasn’t enough, last night we slept quite, err, close to one other to have some extra warmth after our impromptu bath. And well, after coddling naked for hours on end, things are a bit awkward between us. Not what you usually call a healthy boss-employee relationship.

After hours of nature trekking (or at least, that’s what it felt like), we find a dirt road and a little wooden sign. An arrow points to the left, the letters A2 inscribed underneath. Another points at the right, with the word “vigeto” written next to it.

“A2, I think that’s the highway to Rome,” I say. “Why don’t we walk over there and then try to hitch a ride to Rome? I’m sure the embassy can help us.”

“Last thing I want is to go to Rome. Do you know how crowded that city is? How many tourists does it have? If we go to Rome in the nude then I promise you that we will find our bare asses everywhere on the web from Rio de Janeiro to Tokyo.”

“But what if the hitchikers give us something to we-”

“Let’s go the other way, I’m sure we can find a town where we can steal a dress and THEN we go to Rome.”

I sigh; Laura can be so stubborn sometimes. She didn’t even wait for my retort, already walking in the opposite direction. “Yeah, because that worked out so well for us last time,” I mumble to myself.

And so we keep marching. We move next to the road but not on it, to give us a chance to duck and hide if people come. Luckily (and unluckily), we are alone the whole trek.

Eventually, we leave the rough wilderness as the hill gets flushed with green grass. The ground is soft, the grass tickles my feet, a cloud blocks the sun and the wind feels as refreshing as a glass of lemonade. The little things begin to add up.

And speaking of not-so-little things, our nature walk is cut off by row after row of small bushes. We reached a vineyard! Civilization at last! I’m not exactly eager to flaunt my breasts to more Italians, but at least we can maybe find something to wear nearby.