One of my favorite experiences happened at a bus stop

This was a long time ago , back in 2017 when I was 20 years old. I was working at a non-profit conservation club in northern Sardinia as a sort of work visa internship. We lived on a farm owned by the club, and were provided with food, although I frequently missed breakfast and sometimes couldn’t be bothered to make the 5km drive out of the way to get to the farm so I could eat at the club. I owned a motorcycle, and rode it around in the mountains out there. I spent my free time exploring the old mining areas of the island, and hiking. <br><br>I had spent the previous night in the back of my motorcycle at some turning area along a mountain road. The club had a meeting that night in a different town, and I joined to present some of the work we were doing with their support. I planned on returning to the farm afterwards, but I turned in the wrong direction and headed back out on the highway. The roads were very narrow and twisty, so I pulled over to ride back in the direction I came from. I had to pass a couple of tunnels on that road, but it was late and I had no other options, so I pulled over and laid my sleeping bag out on the ground.<br><br>I woke up when the sun hit me, rolled everything up, and took off towards the nearby town to get a coffee and maybe some sort of bread to eat, since I missed breakfast at the club. I hesitated at a roundabout in town, the light turned red, and some guy leaned out the window of the car next to me and joined to say “why are you living?”. I told him how I had been driving towards the farm and turned in the wrong direction. We talked a little and he invited me to grab a coffee with him. I park my motorcycle and join him in his van, and we head to a nearby bar.<br><br>He spent a couple more hours with me, he was into the same stuff I was, so we talked about the abandoned mines around the area. We talked about regular Sardinian stuff. I ended up helping him with his melon farm for a week, and he showed me some of the best swimming spots along the coast as well as some abandoned mining sites. He invited me to his house one night for dinner and I was able to experience a bit of Sardinian culture. I was given a few cactus fruits , as well as some figs from his tree, but I never got to see them because I left before the figs were ripe. He was a really nice guy, and I think about him from time to time. I don’t know his name, but I got a taste of what a Sardinian farmer’s life might be like.