We had been trying to arrange the sheets across the beds, suspending them above each mattress, and pinning them to the tops of the bedposts so that they could dry properly; before we left to walk and dance around beautiful mountainous rolling hills, rocks, steep curves and bright green grass.
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None of the three beds had fit the purpose and one bed with its complicated arrangement of electric lamps on either side might even have blown a fuse if in touch with the wetness of the bed clothes.
So we walked outside, dancing naked but for a single silk shawl, one for me and one for Becky.
She playfully teases her shawl around her waist, holds it behind her, and lowers it to reveal the soft blonde hairs on the dimples of her lower back, inches it over the curve and partition of her buttocks.
And I twirl my shawl around my head, in the wind, so I too am fully naked; until we approach the gypsy encampment.
As we dance down the mountain, barefoot on soft dewy grass, I happen across the first of them, a handsome man with swarthy features. He is dressed in dark clothing, waistcoat, pants and peaked cap.
I have already made a wrap of my shawl before he sees me, have covered my chest down to my thighs so that I am fully modest in my new dressage.
He holds out his hand and playfully holds the fingers of my left hand to come with him and we dance further down the mountain onwards towards the village where his kin have shelter.
But I won’t go with him. I tilt my head even though he is encouraging, and explain that my girl is just coming from further up the mountain. And sure enough Becky comes round a promontory dancing down and into sight, recognizable by her head of thick long blonde hair, and we join up again in our dance.
I cannot resist but to hum.
“The hills are alive, with the sound of music!”
And I am confident that my voice sounds good, at least in a hum, that she will recognize the tune as we continue our dance down the mountain, our shawls loosened once more with the freedom of the breeze against our naked skin.
Photo by ClaraDon sourced from Thomas Tolkien via Flickr
