60 days in Italy: Day 22 Uphill with a melon

After tussling uselessly with the main character in my novel for hours today, I threw in the towel and went for a walk toward the end of the afternoon. I ended up in Calimera, yet again.

The sky was a gorgeous blue with gossamer clouds. After almost a week of heavy rain, it felt glorious to be moving. I walked fast, spurred on by the fact my jeans fit more snugly than they did three weeks ago.

When I reached Calimera, I saw a brown sign with an arrow indicating a museum nearby. I followed it. I walked for about 10 minutes on viale Bari until I reached a major intersection -- well, major for Calimera. Blue signs there pointed to ways to reach neighbouring towns but nothing for the museo.

Keep walk straight ahead or try viale Napoli. Napoli was wider so that's where I went until it's name changed suddenly via Salvemini at the next intersection and to via Torricelli at the one after that. But it struck me as a pretty avenue. It even had a median dotted with baby trees. The houses looked larger and more prosperous there than those I'd seen on my usual route.

Nevertheless, the sidewalks were as abysmal there as everywhere else. They're narrow, no more than a couple of feet wide, which wouldn't be so bad. But I swear using them can make you seasick -- up and down, up and down every few yards where driveways drop or light poles suddenly stand in your way. But if you walk on the street and you risk being mowed down by a Smart Car.

Still in the dark about the which way to the bloody museum, I finally stopped a hefty woman riding by on a bicycle. Ah, I had just passed it, there on via Europa, just behind me. I turned and there it stood mocking me.

Of course, it was 5 p.m. and it didn't open for another half hour. I left, walking along via Europe. With an important street name like that, I had no doubt it would lead me straight to via Roma and the main square.

It did.

Before taking the road for home, I stopped at the Supermercato. I thought it would be nice to have prosciutto and melon as a first course for dinner. After all, I'd had plenty of exercise.

But I don't know why I had to buy the melon, along with dishwashing detergent, a ricotta made of sheep and goat's milk and a few other things in Calimera instead of picking those things up in Martignano.

I climbed the steep hill along road back (it's probably the only hill in Puglia) at a steep angle, as though my body were pushing against a strong wind. I held the grotesque melon against me with my right arm while the loaded plastic bag dangled in the crook of my left arm.