The Glory of Foreign Travel

As far as I'm concerned, the glory of foreign travel comes from the ability to loose yourself in a foreign culture. I can't think of anything that excites me more than being completely and utterly oblivious. It's the same feeling you got when you were five years old... Everything excites you. You can't read anything. Only a rudimentary sense of how things work, how the world works, how people work. Your whole life, your whole existence, it becomes a guessing game. It becomes a series of interesting guesses.

And I'm not against looking at the huge icons of each country, I've been doin that and it's unexplainable. I think that it's great to take a squizz once but then to take it into your own hands, take a unique route and explore. I'm not too fond of ticking things off the list and collecting half hearted, semi treasure that will be placed in empty draws in dusty rooms. I want to learn more about my world than the newspapers accommodate and travel to bring what little I can, in my ignorance and knowledge, to those parts of the world whose riches are differently disposed. Rather I want to explore a country and become part of it. I want to discover the small coffee shops in Italy and France and Switzerland. I want to walk through the Italian hills and get lost talking to unique people with a unique story. I want to meet people like me and people different to me, the people I can like all the same. I want to take pictures of people and places and things. To see things through new eyes. Most of all, I want to look at a map and remember  how I was transformed by the places I've been and the things I've seen.

I'll tell you what sparked this... This week we went in a walk and got so lost... For about 10km. A little Italian man saw my mum taking a photo and saw the little Australian flag in her fitness first backpack and stated "are you Australian? I love Australians!". We walked and talked. Dad and I got engulfed in a philosophical conversation. 

The first sentence he said was as he pointed to the nearby monestary was "I don't think I understand this whole religion thing. I believe in something else",  "poetry, art, love" I said and he chuckled and ecstatically said "yes, yes, poetry. I think poetry and nature". We went on to talk about the Italian government and I explained the parliament in Australia at the moment. At age 73 years old he had the dreeam of travelling to Australia with his wife. He said he had always desired to see the architecture in Sydney (he is an architect) and liked the "beautiful Australian women". This has to be one of the most lovely experiences since being in Europe and I would like to eventually, have many more.

TATA for now, Elena. 

Xx