Viaggiare Diventa La Mia Vita

Viaggiare diventa la mia vita: Traveling becomes my life.

People don't always get it--my complete obsession with travel. My mom knows I have wanderlust, but I don't think she overly approves of my constant desire to be somewhere else. It really isn't a desire so much as a need; it has taken me a few years to realize that travel is my life's drug. My health and wellbeing is directly tied to foreign soil and the adventures found there. 

When I envision my future life (which I am doing daily now that I am a directionless and lost graduate), I see a petite home--perhaps a brick townhouse with little to no yard space. Inside, the place is a history of my travels. A depository of glass from Venice, trinkets from the Caribbean, wooden bowls from Africa. A library of travel guides from all my favorite places. The walls are covered with art from talented nobodies found in Florence, Jamaica, New Zealand. My photographs are everywhere, showing my life over the years through the places I have been and the people I have met. 

I began reading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert a few days ago (you may recall I attempted to start it after returning from Italy, but had to put it down after the first line made me want bolt for the airport). On page 41 was the following paragraph:

"...Traveling is the great true love of my life. I have always felt...that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice. I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been constant in my other loves. I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby--I just don't care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it's mine."

Liz put into words what I haven't been able to verbalize so succinctly for myself: travel is the love of my life. It will never leave me or leave me wanting. I will always be satisfied and enraptured by travel. It will be my constant companion for the rest of my life. 

Come hell or high water, I will always find the time and resources to simply go. 

I Miss "Ciao Bella"

First, if you haven't purchased a cheap Christmas gift for yourself, may I recommend an enticing read: my thesis. Purchased easily for download from Lulu.com (the link will take you straight there). All $3 of my profit goes to my Return to Italy fund. Now for the good stuff....

Today I chatted with Danny online--my human connection to 'la terra della mia vita'. This is a rare pleasure for me, thanks to my booked schedule these last few weeks before graduation, and the six hour time difference. It was 7:30 p.m. here, 1:30 a.m. there. The conversation was brief, but bright. My impending graduation, his recent move to the heart of Florence (a mere 5 minutes from our meeting place of SMN--that would be Piazza Santa Maria Novella), his love for snow, my search for employment. 

And then he says he needs to go to bed (exam to study for in the morning). "Ciao bella!" he writes. 

The wave of crushing longing that had been held back fairly securely was released.

Golden sunlight making the unremarkable Arno River turn dazzling. 

The cool marble counters and polished brass fixtures inside the espresso bar at Piazza della Repubblica. 

Pizzeria Dante, with the to-die-for quattro stagioni pizza and delicious all-you-can-drink table wine.

The David positioned at the end of the Accademia gallery under a glass dome, Michelangelo's masterpiece. 

The smell of the leather market by San Lorenzo, still open in the pouring rain. The vendors shouting and haggling with customers, and adjusting their tarps to keep the goods dry. 

Gelato at La Carraia, enjoyed with friends on the ponte watching the sunset gloriously and the lights on the Ponte Vecchio flicker on. Every night a different show.

Piazza Santa Maria Novella. The number of times I waited there, excited beyond measure. The random evening photo shoot with friends. I crossed the piazza on the way to catch my weekend trains. I watched a street musician give an impromptu concert on the lawn. Saw lovers young and old holding hands, chatting and laughing. So much happiness there. 

So in the words of my Facebook status from long ago: 

"Per cui avete fame? Viaggio? Arte? Amore? Alimenti la tua anima. Sia felice."

What are you hungry for? Travel? Art? Love? Feed your soul. Be happy.

I'm hungry for Florence. Too bad my local grocery doesn't have Italy Shake-n-Bake available. 

Florence has bewitched me. I will never be the same again. 

Making a Viral Video: An Experiment

My Interdisciplinary Media Studies class has been charged with making a video go viral. So here is my team's attempt to create a video interesting enough to catch the attention of the world...

For every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction.--Newton’s Law. Though we hear of the sad and terrible events happening around the world, there is an equal amount of joy and happiness to be found even if we aren’t reminded of it every day. For each 9/11, earthquake, hurricane, war, life lost, remember that the balance is restored with every smile and every laugh.

Click here to watch!

A Bird With Two Homes

It is officially done. Thirteen weeks of fast and furious writing effort have culminated in the digital publishing of my 54-page narrative, titled A Bird With Two Homes.  It is available for PDF download at Lulu.com for $5.50. (Click here to access the page). 


I initially intended to publish it here on my blog in volumes, but after realizing the amount of time and effort I have put into the piece, I decided that it is important for me to receive some financial compensation. (In case you are curious, I will make about $3 per download.)

Interestingly, A Bird With Two Homes is the first narrative about Cinque Terre available with the online publishing company. With luck, that will help my story get found! 


I am so happy with the finished product, and hope you will be as well. 


The following is an excerpt from the first pages of the final copy as an enticement to download the full thing, of course.
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I am two hours and 53 minutes into my three-hour journey, sitting on a damp seat for the seven-minute trip from La Spezia to Cinque Terre—Riomaggiore, specifically. Everything is black as the train speeds through the five-minute long tunnel. Fluorescent lighting flickers on and off intermittently. The train car is old, a little musty. My friend Lauren sits across from me, listening to her iPod. Months ago when I made my hostel reservation, I booked it for two, hoping I would find someone to join me. I was thrilled when Lauren—with her can-do attitude, easy smile, and corn silk blond hair—wanted to come along.

Italy has been on my radar since I saw a picture of Michelangelo’s David in middle school, but I had never even heard of Cinque Terre until a few months prior to leaving. Flipping through television channels one day, I stopped when I saw images of a coastal town with stunning cliffs. PBS had the amiable travel guru Rick Steves enjoying lemon gelato and discussing the local charm and beauty of Cinque Terre. I was riveted, hanging on to Steves’ every word. Enchanted by Steves’ description of a Vespa-free world featuring locally made vino bianco and views of the sea rivaled only by the cliff towns of the Amalfi Coast in the south, I went to my local library to check out every Cinque Terre travel item—videos, books, histories, novels, and even music CDs—the city of Lexington, Kentucky offered. In the end, After the PBS special and research, I decided it would be Steves’ Italy 2010 guidebook that would lead me to the best sights and experiences Italy has to offer.

Looking down, Steves’ book is in my hands, poised and ready to direct me to the hostel’s realty company. It already shows wear after two weeks of city life in my temporary home city of Florence. The Cinque Terre section looks like a well-loved textbook: highlights, circles, side-notes, and reservation numbers fill the pages.  Suddenly there is a flash of light. I straighten and gaze intently out of the window. We are almost there.