ciento volando

travel, stories, and other flights of fancy

On the road again*, still.

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(*with international basketball superstars, and a couple of “social” badminton enthusiasts)

***

Two years ago on the 8th of August, I got on a plane with a one-way ticket to Rome. My vague ‘plan’ was to travel (you know, around), become ‘fluent’ in Spanish, build a romantically bohemian, semi-nomadic life for myself, and somehow write (or at least think about writing) something a lot more creative and ambitious than this blog.

Italian fruit and wine shop, with dream vespa and vine-clad apartmentSo how is it going? Not too bad! I’m getting by, by teaching English and occasionally translating, both of which I enjoy immensely. The travel is happening, semi-frequently, though not always when and where and how I’d plan it (had I unlimited time and a mysterious benefactor – currently taking offers!). My Spanish is slow and steadily improving, though it’s an infinite task and I doubt I’ll ever be content with my level. And as for the real, really infinite task…well my writing is so far, um, not progressing. It’s currently limited to this blog, some stream-of-consciousness diary entries (even more nonsensical and narcissistic than this blog), and a focus-less (oh dear) smattering of half baked creative/journalistic bits ‘n pieces, that are possibly unreadable and definitely unpublishable. (So what I’m kinda getting at, dear friends, family and humble followers, is that I hope you’re not holding your breath!)

But life is good (in fact, it’s great), and I’m happy to continue along this wandering trajectory for quite a while longer.

My only real complaint is that Australia is too far away. Unfortunately, not much can be done to remedy that. Skype and email and facebook (and even real letters and postcards) are all wonderful, but there’s just no substitute for face to face conversation or sharing a bottle of wine over a game of (real) scrabble. No number of European kisses will ever be substitute for a heartfelt Aussie hug.

It’s been two years since I’ve been home, and I’m finally starting to feel it. Call me cold and insensitive (you wouldn’t be the first), but since I left, I’ve barely felt homesick. Of course I miss my friends and family (and a lot more than they think I do), but for me, this sacrifice has become the main incentive to make the most of my time here. Why give up so much, to mope around feeling mopey? There’s no point in marring one experience because you’re bitter about missing out on another. So try not to dwell on it.

At least that’s what I tell myself, and most of the time it works. However, a few weeks ago, I felt my first serious pangs of homesickness. My dad (who’s a painter), had a big exhibition opening. It was at a regional gallery, and literally hundreds of people made an overnight trip from Melbourne to give him their support. The opening was a huge success, as was the party afterwards. As I watched the speeches via Skype, the momentousness of the occasion struck me. Dad spoke so well. I felt so proud, and so sad. In the photos that came after the event, I recognised both faces and paintings I hadn’t seen in years. It seems that everybody, from friends and family, to industry professionals and total strangers, has been raving about the show and the night. Everyone except me. It really, really frustrated and upset me that I couldn’t be there. Perhaps it was the significance of the event, or that I’m getting soft (or tired and emotional), or perhaps it’s just been too long. Despite having missed two Christmases, and numerous weddings, births, footy matches, parties, and much needed hugs, this is the first time I’ve seriously felt as though I was missing out on something. I should have been there, and not just for myself.

Señor Cigüeña, Mr Stork, I wanna be like you...

However, since the exhibition, two things have made my ‘Antipodean dilemma’ a lot more bearable.

The first is a recent spate of catch ups with Australian friends and relatives over here in Europe. Most importantly… my mum!!!

Mum arrived in Madrid about three weeks ago… and it’s impossible to put in words how wonderful it’s been to see her, how much fun we’ve had, and how flat out we’ve been – travelling, talking, and socialising. Using Segovia as our home base, we spent time in Madrid, Granada, Cordoba, and Hinjosa del Duque, the tiny middle-of-nowhere town where I lived during my first year in Spain. I introduced her to as many of my Spanish friends as possible, and we also caught up with a number of Aussies who were serendipitously in Madrid at the same time. Then, we flew to Rome, where we spent a lovely couple of days with Mum’s English cousin and his partner. After that, we went an ideal travel companionto Florence, to visit my favourite building in Italy (Il Duomo di Firenze) and further our quest for the perfect pistachio gelati (which we still haven’t found, though we did accidently hit upon the world’s yummiest walnut bread). Currently we’re in Turin, with my twin aunts and my aunt’s basketball team. They’re here to compete in the World Masters Games, which is kind of like an open Olympics for mature athletes. The basketball girls are seriously good, and have been competing in international competitions for years. Just for fun (and in order to be eligible for competitors’ rates on luxury accommodation) Mum and my other aunt have entered the social badminton competition. Up until a couple of months ago they’d never played it (or anything else) in their lives. But they’ve really embraced badminton (particularly the social aspect) and have had the chance to compete with athletes from all over the world…  it’s been surprisingly fun to watch. So with basketball, badminton, and 11 other Melbournian women all bursting to enjoy Italy (go shopping, make days trips, and eat and drink and eat and drink), it’s been a busy ten days of competition. The group have been so lovely and welcoming, and Turin has almost become like home… it’ll be a shame to leave and get back on the road again tomorrow.

Back to Mum’s visit. I loved showing her Spain, and sharing what I love about the country; the lifestyle, the scenery, the Alhambra, the food, the wine, the prices, the weather, the people. Now she can put names to faces and I find it reassuring to know that she’s reassured (and can see that I’ve ‘fallen on my feet’, that I’m happy with what I’m doing, and that I live in a safe environment with good people). Mum’s marvelling at everything has also refreshed my own outlook. I was beginning to take things for granted (such as old buildings and free tapas), but it’s hit me all over again just how lucky I am to be where I am and be able to live how I do. Mum is an easygoing and fun travel companion, and took to Spain like a fish to water (not everyone does), embracing all the best things whilst graciously turning a blind eye to issues like food safety (not easy for a nurse-come-health-inspector). We’ve still got a couple of weeks to go in Italy (it’s a hard life), before she goes back to the real world and I go back to Segovia… but all I can say is, so far so good… I think (I hope) this trip has been exactly what we both needed.  I for one feel strengthened and reaffirmed and ready for whatever the next few years bring.

And now, the second thing that makes my yearning for Australia bearable… is the promise of a trip home! I’ve finally booked my ticket, and providing all things go to plan, will be back in Melbourne for nearly a month over Christmas.

!!!!!!

Between now and then, there’s a lot more to see, do, and look forward to. I’ll certainly need to upload some photos of our Italian adventure, and we’ll see if I can manage to squeeze out a haiku, or something.

But given the rate at which time is speeding along, I guess I can say to some of you, see you soon!

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2 thoughts on “On the road again*, still.

  1. Oh jean! Free tapas? I can see how the homesickness was delayed! can’t wait for Christmas,
    Pippy xxooo

  2. Love how happy you sound. And what a gorgeous photograph!

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