Italy and Losing Everything.

As I woke up, I sensed something was wrong. As I opened my eyes and looked up , I realized what it was.

I was looking directly up.

In theory, I should have been looking at angle. This could only mean one thing.
The thing I was using a pillow, was no longer there.

That 'thing' was my rucksack.
That rucksack contained every single thing in the world, that I owned.
(admittedly -not a lot - but it was all I had at the time.)

On the bright side, I still had my boots, my passport, and a T-Shirt.(cunningly stuffed into the bottom of my sleeping bag. Oh - I also had my sleeping bag. Things were looking up!)

I wasn't so much pissed off (well I was for 5 minutes, admittedly) as bemused.
I was surprisingly philosophical about it all.

It was quite apparent I wasn't a Rothschild in disguise, and highly dubious my rucksack would contain anything of value.

Whoever stole it would have a nice surprise. - Lets just say laundry isn't the most regular thing I did, when traveling. I had a kind of store it all up, and do it all at once, system.

This cycle was definitely in the 'rucksack about to melt due to dirty smelly clothes '- phase.

Poor fuckers - I nearly felt sorry for them.

After a cigarette, and a contemplation, I set off again. To somewhere.

Walking off the beach, I realized how much I already missed my rucksack.

And it felt fantastic!

No Joke. I had never realized quite what a burden it was.

I could walk, not trudge!

Ok, I knew there were downsides- obviously.
Quite a few, to be fair.

But always try to look on the bright side, eh?

Onwards..