Though we were not hiking up the mountain, it was still a very uphill task getting to the top, and even more painful (as in life) to come down. There was surely some kind of mismatch between the crowd turn-out and infrastructure.
We landed ourselves in a special situation with no bus to take us back to the city (though it was 4 pm), none of the swarm of waiting taxis ready to take us either, and the only (rather expensive) option left was to call a taxi all the way from the city to take us back.
And so something remarkable happened. In scampering for solutions, five people found each other- my husband and I, of course.. a Dutch guy who was carrying all his belongings in his two hands, being a backpacker and camper moving from one city to another.. and yet another Dutch guy (no connection to the first Dutch guy) working for an oil company..and his girlfriend. We decided we would all share a taxi and the expense to get back to the city.
We waited an hour for our taxi to arrive.What a motley crowd we were, each looking and dressed so different from the other- brought together by the need for survival. Excuse my melodramatic description, but you’d surely not want to be stranded there next morning.
Finally off we headed with a relaxed sigh..
The backpacker really liked exchanging stories. As we were saying goodbyes, I couldn’t resist asking, “Have you read the Wizard of Oz?”
“Well, I was reminded of this story- it also about five people who have little in common.. but they undertake a journey together for a common purpose- finding the wizard.”
“Oh wow, so am I the wizard?” he asked excitedly.
“No, you are Dorothy!” I said.
He didn’t seem too happy with that. I guess that’s because he hadn’t read the story before.
“She’s the one who took the first step in the story.. starting the journey- like you did today,” my husband explained to him kindly. He seemed to like that. If not, I wouldn’t be too worried- he had a grand evening of champagne (which he had been carrying everywhere) and barbecue under the stars ahead of him.