As I started to pack my case I got slightly emotional for a few reasons. Firstly, from my childhood there had been two countries I have always wanted to visit and here at the age of 34 I was about to tick one of those countries off! Secondly, competing internationally in a sport was also a childhood dream, and although technically I had already competed in three international competitions, they were all within South Africa’s borders and I felt I couldn’t truly call myself an international athlete until I had gone outside my countries borders.
On the Friday evening JC fetched Anet and I to go to his house to dismantle and pack the
trike. It was the ideal way for me to start the trip. JC and Elbie had helped me to start cycling, they have been taking me out for training rides on a Sunday afternoon for years. They had long since passed the friends line and had become a third set of parents in my life. So as Anet left to visit a friend, Elbie, JC and myself sat around their kitchen table with pizzas. I really felt it was the perfect send off.
A few hours later I sat in the back of the bakkie on the way to the airport and Anet and I looked at each other and said ‘is this really happening?’ Anet had cycled my first ever league race when I was on my old 24kg rusted trike, she had also been at so many other firsts: first nationals, first cycling medal, first World Champs, and she was also there when I received my first international medal, but neither of us could believe that we were once again reunited – this time for my first international trip as an athlete. I felt very privileged to, in the absence of my mom and dad, to be taken and seen off at the airport by my cycling parents. Being at the airport, saying bye to JC and Elbie, going to through the security, and boarding the plane, none of it felt real.
Traveling for so long was very difficult for me as I couldn’t really get comfortable and every time I did nod off my back pain made itself known. I longed for a seat in business/first class so that I could be more comfortable and rested. (At the end of the trip we made a comment that if at all possible I should try and upgrade my seat, at least, next time we fly such a long distance so that I can be more comfortable.) When we got to Dubai I longed for to get comfortable before we boarded the next plane to Venice but all the comfortable loungers were taken and we entertained ourselves by trying to connect to the airport wifi to be able to check in with loved ones. One thing about being disabled is you generally stick out in a crowd, so while trying to pass the time we met three or four other para cyclists and their assistant from Indonesia who were flying to Venice on the same flight. Once we were on the plane we saw the rest of the 20 odd strong team. When we landed at Venice airport after a second sleepless flight, paracyclists took over the oversized baggage area! I have never seen so many bikes, trikes, and handcycles come out of the inside of the airport!!
Much to our relief when we got to the arrivals we found our taxi guy that we pre-booked waiting for us. And so our game of charades began. Most people we met on our trip could either speak a little English or none at all but at the same time they were so friendly so we wanted to communicate with them. Due to the fact that we booked our hotels and so forth a bit later because we weren’t sure if we had enough funds to go to Europe, we couldn’t get accommodation in Maniago itself where the competition was being held. As a consequence, we ended up in a small village called Vajont. We later learnt that Vajont is the youngest town in Italy. It was started in 1971 on the municipal territory of Maniago and was built to rehome the people evacuated from another town after the Vajont Dam disaster of 1963. At first the hotel was so quiet and our room was on the back end of the hotel that I was a bit worried. Two young South African ladies alone in a lonely hotel in a quiet village… sounds like a beginning of a scary movie right? HEHEHE
After an hour or two in bed, when dragged ourselves out of bed and went in search of the one and only restaurant in town, a pizzeria. The hotel owner, our hotel owner/manager, with whom we would have a lot of fun with over the next week, said that the pizzeria was just round the corner. So naturally we walk out the hotel, turned the next corner and started walking. (Anet walking and me hanging onto my wheelchair as she learnt to negotiate pavements, dips, and other obstacles.) There was one
problem Mario didn’t tell us around which corner! A walk which should have taken us about four minutes took as about twenty or more as we explored the little town in search of dinner. After trying to decipher the menu and what it meant we placed our order and hoped for the best. Later in the trip we got clever and used Google translate to read the menu.
When we returned to the hotel, now we knew where we were going, we were informed that we would be upgraded to a nicer room the next morning due to the fact that we were staying the whole week. With that news we didn’t bother to unpack that evening but Anet decided that she wanted to put the trike together that night. So as I got comfortable on the bed and stretched my back out, Anet went to work on the trike.
Day two the plan for the day was to continue to rest and recover from our travels. We moved over to our new room, which was definitely an upgrade as we now were at the front of the hotel and even had a small balcony which gave us a beautiful view of the mountains. After unpacking and setting into our new room, Anet paid a visit to the local grocer only to discover that the woman actually spoke English, a rarity in Vajont. That afternoon we found a quiet road behind the hotel that I could cycle on so that I could get my legs moving and make sure that the trike was in working order. As I cycle back and forth on the road I struggled to wrap my head around the fact that I wasn’t cycling in South Africa anymore and that I was indeed in Italy. But more about the cycling in later blogs.
Ever since arriving at the hotel the previous day something weird was happening and we took the downtime to discuss it. In the last twenty-four hours a role reversal had happened and it kind of took us by total surprise. Here in Vajont people were actually talking to me, yes to Toni! If you don’t understand it’s okay, unless you have been out and about with me in public you would not have experienced what I am referring to.
In South Africa people when I am out in public who don’t know me often don’t speak to me. It’s something which frustrates me endlessly. After all I have done and achieved I am still treated as an uneducated person or someone who cannot order or speak for herself. For example, if I go to a restaurant with a friend or family member more often than not my company will be asked what I would like to order, as if they are somehow mind readers. The words ‘what would SHE like’ are often used in front of me. Sometimes I won’t even be served in a shop or restaurant unless I have somebody standing next to me. However in the last twenty-four hours in Italy people had been addressing me instead of Anet! It felt weird for me to be doing the communication for our small party of two. And while it felt weird to me, Anet was feeling a bit lost, dare I say she felt ignored. Suddenly she found herself in my shoes, being cut out of conversations, playing the spectator, and relying on me to make arrangements. She said for the first time since we became friends she understood even more of what I lived with on a daily basis. One situation which depicts this beautifully was when we moved rooms and the women had walked straight past Anet to give me the room key. We had a good giggle about the situation we were in and Anet then told me she would make good use of the situation as long as she could and proceeded to send me all the way to reception alone to see what time dinner was!
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