Tramily Dinners – The Trek

What would you eat if you could eat whatever you wanted, without consequences? Actually, what if you could eat whatever you wanted and the only consequence was strong calves, a slim waist, and a juicy butt?

When I started walking, the answer was ice cream. I would come to town and eat two ice cream cones. Grab two more on the way out. I have drank juice and devoured sandwiches. I’ve eaten an entire plate of wings, a pizza, and a salad all in one sitting. It’s not hard to stuff yourself when you’re literally starving.

All this eating used to bring me a lot of joy, but now I see it as just another city chore. That is, unless you have access to a kitchen.

In Bishop, California, you will find Hostel California. From the outside it looks like cotton candy. Inside is the largest hostel kitchen in the entire country. You know we had to cook in it.

Vivi, Van Gogh and I hopped on some cruiser bikes and headed to Vons in style. Van Gogh looked like a fly in his cowboy hat, Vivi’s bike squeaked with every pedal: we caused a big mess in the traffic.

At the supermarket we fill our cart according to Vivi’s extensive list. Eggs, milk, flour. Fresh fruit, nutella, French cheeses. I knew we were about to spend more on this meal than we had in our beds, but I tried to let it go. We didn’t cook to save money, we cooked to save our souls.

In the end, Van Gogh paid for the purchase. «Are you sure?» we repeat. Fortunately, it was.

When we returned to the hostel, the kitchen was full of people. There was the homeless couple making jambalaya, the hiking brother who inconsiderately left his piece of meat in the middle of the counter, the hostel employee trying to boil some pasta. Van Gogh and I immediately got to work, unpacking the groceries and unloading the drainer so Vivi could start cooking.

Somehow, Van Gogh had not yet guessed the French delicacy Vivi was preparing for us. He wanted it to be a surprise, so days before she had whispered her secret in my ear: crepes.

Imagine Vivi at the stove, pouring the dough, turning it expertly, without burning a single crepe. Imagine Van Gogh cutting every last ingredient and arranging them on a platter. Imagine me, mostly just standing there, chatting and sipping my drink.

UpDog set the table and the four of us had savory and sweet crepes for dinner. Ham, mushrooms and cheese, then Nutella and strawberries or lemon and powdered sugar. What a delight!

When we young people got out of bed the next morning, Van Gogh had already cycled to and from the supermarket, put cookies in the oven, and started making a batch of homemade sauce. Vivi had never tried this American staple before and believe me when I tell you she was not disappointed. Me neither; To be honest, I was amazed. Who was this man who would go to any lengths to take care of his friends?

This is one of my favorite things about being on the road. It reminds you that even simple things can be luxuries. It reminds you that people are good.

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