Far From The Road

    On my day in Gozo with Edward, we drove together and looked around and chatted, but then at times, he dropped me off at a site to explore on my own; when I was ready to move on, I could call him to pick me up. At my leisure, no pressure. Previously, I had told him I wanted to see the "cart ruts." Strange grooves carved into the limestone bedrock under your feet, parallel lines that run for miles like long-forgotten train tracks. Like a proper tour guide, he made it part of our agenda. What I didn't know was that unlike all the other ancient sites I had visited in Egypt and Malta, the cart ruts weren't really a tourist attraction. There was no signage, no "exhibit," no exit through the gift ship. They're just these rock formations out in the middle of nowhere. Edward had dutifully printed a Google satellite map for me with bright yellow arrows showing where the cart ruts might be found. No words, no signposts, no help as to where these things might be found, like a map of the moon, and you're told to go find a particular crater.

    Near the end of our wonderful day together, Edward dropped me off at Ta' Cenc---a high, barren plateau, overlooking green farmlands. Maybe two miles in the distance. The capital city of Victoria shimmering on the horizon. He told me he would be about fifteen minutes away when I was finished. And he drove away. 

    The area where I stood could best be described as "god-forsaken." Imagine a flat, rock-hard landscape, not a building nor tree in sight. One paved road sliced through the desolation. Patches of limestone left bare, like pools of rock surrounded by thick, knee-high weeds and thistles. Blue sky and a desperate breeze for comfort. Lizards and (harmless) black snakes for company. A bottle of water and a cell phone, that I soon discovered had 11% battery life. 

    I stepped off the pavement into the abyss, weaving my way through the brambles. Stepping off of broken, uneven rocks onto unforgiving surfaces, moving farther from the road---the only scratch of civilization. The limestone was battered by eons of rain and weather, truly like the surface of the moon.  I waded through from bald patch to bald patch. The lizards and snakes kept their distance, unsure of this clumsy intruder. I stepped carefully yet resolutely, creeping over this sun-baked terrain, keeping my eyes peeled for parallel ruts in the stone. I explored for a good half-hour, never more alone in my life.

    At some point I lost sight of the road. Aiming for a relatively flat expanse, I stepped over some loose rocks, and one the size of a bowling ball rolled under my foot. My legs slid into an awkward split, and I went down on both hands. It made me think of my first day in Egypt when I stepped out of the grand swimming pool in Cairo and slipped on the wet pavement, yogaing into a similar weird lunge. From the opulence of a 5-star hotel to being stranded on the moon. I was so untested back then, so unsure of what I was doing with simple, unremarkable tasks. Where to get a towel for my chair, or how to order a drink from the poolside bar. What a difference a week makes, I boggled.

    The bowling ball rock was a jagged monster that abraded and gashed my ankle. Pretty badly, in fact. My short white sock was soon soaked in blood. My lower leg was a vicious, maroon mess, powdered with limestone dust. I realized I could've easily sprained my damn ankle, or worse, with a treacherous haul to get back to the road. I picked myself up, dusted off my hands, took a drink of water. I thanked God for not making my injury more serious. I pivoted on the flat moon surface to take in the 360 degree horizon of a prehistoric world. I felt the sun on my face. 

    I took stock. I was alone. In a foreign country. Without shelter. Bleeding. With an almost dead phone. In a land where no one knew who I was, where I was, or that I even was at all. On an island at sea. It was an astounding moment. It filled me with a bright light, like drinking a warm mug of something delicious on a winter day. Here I am. High on that rocky plateau in Gozo, I never felt more alive in my life.