Yeah, like in the military, or renovation.
Moving day is moving day and basta. Pick up your hammer and keep going. There is no rest for the weary and there is no crying in construction.
It was like that, in the bakery. Be ready to literally just fall over and it's like... 23 boards to go. Spend 4 hours scrubbing the floors and walls and realize you only have 6 more hours to go. ðŸ˜
I'd come home from night shift, simply unable to speak.
I think that's why I like cross-country running and hiking. It doesn't matter how terrible you feel, you still have to hobble all. the. way. home.
Like the village's yearly pilgrimage over the hills, for 50 km, by foot. The last 5 km or so, you literally are in a trance and can easily trip over small stones on the path because you can barely raise your feet. And it just seems to go on and on and occasionally someone just faints right away.
Your village has a yearly pilgrimage?! I must know more!
There are multiple pilgrimages. Some just to the next field chapel or cross (they dot the countryside), some to the next larger town (circa 14 km round-trip), and then the one very far away, that they've been making since the medieval ages, either on foot or by bicycle (there are two groups). They've never missed a year.
The one on foot leaves at 5 am and arrives for Vespers. 10 hours of marching and praying, with some breaks.
Back in the day, they would actually march there, sleep in the barn, and then march back the next day, but we're all soft now, and take a bus home. 😂
Pilgrimages are common here. The famous Jacob's Route to Santiago de Compostela goes past.
