Twenty minutes. Just a bit of a walk.
Twenty minutes turned into forty. Then sixty. The walk became a climb. Steps and more steps. Stairs.
Breathing hard, we stopped frequently. Each bench giving respite.
Until the last bench.
Azoz bounded up with a wide grin. And the most encouraging words: “Look at you! You both are amazing!” Suddenly we had energy. We could keep going.
At last. We climbed the final stairs. Turned the corner. And, there he was. Azoz. At the end of the journey. Beckoning. Calling, “Grandma!” “Grandpa!”
There. Just beyond Azoz. A magnificent waterfall. Gorgeous.
At the gate. Azoz. “Grandma.” “Come here!” Waving me toward a spot near him, Azoz wanted to make sure I knew he called me Grandma with only the greatest respect. Somehow I already knew that.
Azoz. Of Saudi Arabia. A friend on a Slovenian trail.