The Ants

Yesterday Sofia and I camped at this town called Hospitales de Obig...something.  We had heard from a German friend who has a guidebook with insider hints that the river there was a popular swimming spot for pilgrims, and I was determined to enjoy a lovely nude night swim.  In preparation of this exciting idea, Sofia and I walked up and down the banks of the river, trying to find a good spot where the water was deep enough and the edge clear enough.  To be clear, Sofia did not want to swim in a strange river in the middle of the night one bit.  But she was ready to support me and come with me to make sure I didn't drown while naked.  I have a good sister. 

Let me paint a picture for you:  Evening light filtering through the neat rows of poplar trees.  A small path at the top of a narrow earthen bank.  Brush and bushes and scrappy trees between the path and the water, except at odd intervals where a tiny and steep drop to the water had been cleared. 
Sofia and I had just finished an over-30k day, and we were walking like old women.  I was the oddest looking, surely, with my inconcruous black skirt, red Toms with the backs folded down under my blistered heels, and the way I was gripping my walking stick in one hand like it was the only reason I was still upright.  No one was around, thank goodness.

We were walking slowly, commenting that the shallowness of the water wouldn't make for good skinnydipping, and we stopped at one spot that might have been promising except for the green algae and the swarms of bugs floating on the water's surface.  Suddenly, my feet felt odd.  I looked down and FREAKED OUT as my shoes and feet were swarmed with little black ants.  I couldn't tell if they were biting me or not, but I didn't pause to figure it out.  I kicked one shoe off without thinking and it flew...over the embankment...towards the river...and out of sight.  Crap.
I don't know if any of you have seen me when I'm in an entirely unexpected situation, but in the safe company of Sofia I was squealing like a baby. 
My shoe, my shoe!  The ants, the ants! 
Sofia went after my shoe (risking life and limb!) and I killed all the ants on my other foot.  Only then could I relax, though I still had the heebiejeebies.  My shoe hadn't made it into the water; it had landed in the bushes, suspended only inches from the river.  Phew.  I wasn't bit by any of the ants.  Phew.  Maybe I overreacted.  Maybe.  But I take care not to stand on any ant-highways or ant hills these days. 

Oh, and swimming didn't happen.  I didn't feel like traversing unknown terrain in the dark, pushing through spider's webs, pond scum, and swarms of water bugs, only to stand in knee-deep water in the moonlight.  Call me a coward and I'll surprise you with some of my ant friends in an inconvenient place..