Seaside Glamping
The next morning, out of curiosity, we took a stroll through town and passed the laundromat. I noticed a crude handwritten sign in the window and stopped to read it. Written in Italian, I looked it up in my translator and it said, “We know who you are. We have you on video.” I pictured my face on the local Vada news. I shielded it with a shirt as we headed back to the car, running again, but this time not from a bunch of hooting Italian men, instead from the town of our new rental and soon possibly the local law enforcement! The whole saga left me reeling. Clearly my best laid plans hadn’t worked. Clearly, I needed to adopt a new traveling protocol: always check for uninvited house guests! And while my appetite for travel wasn’t going anywhere, my appetite for camping was. It was time for a change.