“Routing”..In the middle of nowhere

One week ago four mates of mine and I decided to have a three days trip to Niagara Falls and back. We organized two nights out and a “lunch stop” in Woodstock on our way home. I thought that everything was perfectly organized: we called in advance the rental car for having information and we looked for a room on booking.com.

But…on Friday…things went different…

1 PM: Class is over

2 PM: Happiness for the weekend

3.30 PM: The bad news…

…AVIS rental car. A man. One single sentence. Zero chances of replying…I COULD BE THE ONLY DRIVER! Indeed, the officer told us that the second driver must be more than 25, but all of us were under this age. Issues? Yes, they are called 365 miles to do. I started to get in contact with Fordy (the name we decided for our car). She was comfortable, silver, smart, and she runs. I was not convinced to drive, I was looking for a miracle, but, at the same time, I left for this new experience. Fordy wanted to come with us; probably because she wanted to see the falls too. My anxiety was seated on my shoulder but I had to deal with it. One hour later we were on the I-90, a very long thruway from Albany to Buffalo. I STARTED TO LIVE MY JOURNEY. I was able to understand the meaning of each mile, I saw thousands of trees, I looked at all the clouds, which used to run faster than me and I enjoyed lots of lakes and golf couse. Light blue, yellow, orange, red and black. I enjoyed every different shades of the sky and in every moment I could see everything that surrounded me. Furthermore, I felt the air on my skin: hot, fresh and then quite cold. I lived every seconds of this route and I loved it like it was the first time that I have driven. We stayed for a night in Batavia, an hour from our destination. In the morning Fordy, loyal, was in the parking and she was ready to share with me other miles and “to walk” with me in another country, which is called Canada. We would like to take care of her so we decided to stop in a cover parking to repair our best friend ever. At the end of the day she was there, always helpful, for coming back to our motel. Last day was a shiny Sunday, there was fresh air and there were six hours to go. I became stronger because I learnt to know her; there weren’t problems anymore. Sometime she asked for a drink. She wanted a strange black cocktail a little bit expensive, but I was very happy to help her because I was very grateful. Our last stop has been in Woodstock, where the 1969 is still alive and she waited for us even here. I have always dreamt to have a loyal friend, who follow me in every madness with happiness and availability. This car gave me the possibility of enjoying the route, of living my trip at 100%. Now I really know what a US thruway means. I fought to reach my goal and I won against tiredness and boredom, sometimes looking at the nature outside and sometimes just listening some music. Our drop off was on Sunday at 3.30 PM and, “on time as a Swiss clock”, she arrived at destination at 3.29 PM. I switched off her engine and I said goodbye to her. There hasn’t been farewell between us, just a goodbye.