We walked home from The Peak today (I have no idea how to explain it. It's a tall tower you can get to by tram or by a loooong, winding road that is steeply uphill all the way).
After taking the tram for 10 minutes… it was a bit of shock having to walk for an hour downhill.
Walking downhill is hard. I swear humans weren't made to walk like that— at least not for an hour at a time. And it was getting cold, with chances of rain, so we were wearing those white plastic raincoats that you can't do anything but walk in.
After walking for about ten minutes, Ioan looks over to the left and shouts, "BIRDS!"
We have seen enough birds to satisfy a lifetime. Usually they are brown or black or gray or bright green and European looking.
These birds were cockatoos. Pure white birds with a light yellow crest, they ate small green fruits from the tree and played with twigs. It. Was. Enthralling. We took as many pictures as we could, trying to figure out how they could stand on one foot like as they ate, before continuing on.
Ileana and I headed on ahead, leaving Ioan and Dad and Mom behind. We were walking along at a normal pace (fast, of course!), when we heard a yell.
Mom was there, bent over in half, trying not to cry.
A fire hydrant (which is a tall pipe curved at perfect crotch height) had been in Mom's way, and she hadn't noticed it because she was looking at what seemed to be a banana tree.
We were all trying to help and trying not to laugh (if it had been Tom or Jerry crashing into that thing, you would have fallen off the couch), trying not to cry, and trying in general to be helpful. Mom now has a big bruise forming about the size of an ostrich egg on her left thigh. It's impossible to describe the situation, only that if it had happened in a comedic movie it would have been one of the funniest scenes. And even Mom laughed between wiping away the tears. It's just… it's painful!
As we went down the path, we had a couple of photo opportunities with the tram, which came up and down at 'regular' times. We wouldn't have had these photo ops had we taken the actual tram!
Near the end of the trip, as we were coming down some steps, I missed the last stair, slipped, careened forward in what seemed to be slow motion, pitched to my hands, fell on my knees, and landed on my bottom.
The lady walking her dogs next to me nearly had a heart attack. I had a good laugh— made sure my pants hadn't ripped, and didn't even notice the gaping hole in my glove.
You don't realize how much you miss falling until you actually fall!
Yes— painful things are an advantage. They are an adventure. A break in the monotony of sightseeing!