Coda (For Now)

The flight from Rome to Philly is one of the easiest I have ever encountered. I usually take a strong sleeping pill or drink a vodka tonic or two in order to deal with the fact that I am 40,000 feet in the air, pushed along only by these two engines on either side of me. But this time, this time is different. I decide early on in the flight that I'm not going to drink. I'm not going to take those pills. I can handle a flight, ten hours worth, without that stuff. I also surprise myself by how happy and grateful I was to be on the plane. To have made my journey safely, to know I was coming home to my parents and a huge hug from my mom at the airport, for the experiences I had and the friends I had made aboard. I wanted to write all of this down and because we were still were not allowed to get out of our seats, the only paper I had was the last page of Eat, Pray, Love, which I had at my feet to finish up reading. So I jotted down all the goodness I was feeling, all the joy, and I noticed that by using the last page to write this down, I had made a sandwich, so to speak. The first page of the book is signed by Liz Gilbert, saying may all my travels be blessed. The middle is highlighted and noted by my mother, who's copy of the book I now owned. And the last page contained my thoughts on the trip now complete. It's funny how things sometimes just come together.
I have to say, I was a bit nervous about going through immigration and customs. I had 13 bottles of wine, a lot of gifts, and while I had not been on a full out working farm, there could be questions about what exactly I had been doing or exposed to. All of that worry was, as it usually is, for not. We arrived at the gate 45 minutes early, I flew through immigration with two questions from the officer, grabbed my two pieces of checked luggage in less than twenty minutes and wasn't stopped by customs. I was outside, curbside, waiting for my mother to pick me up at the same time I was scheduled to be arriving at the gate. Smooth as silk that journey was.
Beginning in Philadelphia to wade myself back into the water of my life was a good choice. The people here have known me for decades and the connection that we have will never fade, never extinguish - it may morph into different shapes as we go through various periods in our lives, but we will always be connected. These people are the ones that keep me grounded, that make home, home. And it's a valued aspect of being back in the States because otherwise I think I'd be in a constant state of culture shock. Food is an especially big disappointment. No one knows where their food comes from, or even worse, they don't even care. It's something I'm going to struggle with a lot being back and it's going to take a lot of energy to make sure that the food I eat is something that is actually good for me and well raised.
Being here is also a way to test out my old skin and the identity I left behind when I flew over the Atlantic. Overseas I could invent myself in which ever way I wanted to. Not to say that I did, but there were no expectations as to how I should act. Everyone was meeting me for the first time and had no idea who I was. Back here, everyone knows who I am or was. Something has changed about me, but I'm not sure what. I think that will take several weeks to decipher as I get over the jet lag, see through the culture shock and settle back into a routine (which will be fairly difficult with the holidays). The best way to put it, as a friend succinctly summed up after hearing about my experience and purpose of going abroad, was that I basically defibrillated my life. Everything was out of rhythm, nothing felt right, and something needed to happen to get back on course. For me, this trip was it. This was the solid and sometimes not so gentle shock to the heart I needed.
And with that, I gather up my things, stuff them in ziplock bags and fill my pack up for the last time. It's time for my final flight back to Austin, Texas. I don't expect this to be easy. I can already feel the post-vacation depression sinking in, and that's just something I get every time I leave home for a week - imagine what it'll be like after ten. But I know that as soon as I step off that plane and grab my luggage, people will be waiting for me to whisk me away to our favorite restaurant, Polvo's, for our favorite frozen drink, the elusive (in Italy) margarita. And really, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with good friends and a Polvo's margarita.

Andiamo.

The Facts

Here's a summary of my trip:
Total miles travelled: 12,015 (By Plane: 10,575, Train: 802, Bus 298, Automobile: 134, Ferry: 206 (nautical miles) - miles travelled only includes trips where I changed where I was staying or day trips like CinqueTerra not going to the grocery store 30 minutes away
The route: Philly -> Rome -> Pompeii -> Amalfi -> Ravello -> Naples -> Cosenza -> Rogliano -> Falerno -> Bologna -> Imola -> Dozza -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Florence -> CinqueTerra region -> Florence -> Arezzo -> Monterchi -> Sansepulcro -> Anghiari -> Monterchi -> Arezzo -> Rome -> Athens -> Naxos ->Athens -> Rome -> Philly
2 Countries - Italy, Greece
70 Days

Chores Completed
Walls/Fences painted: 14
Walnuts shelled: ~300
Weeds pulled: ~400x400 sq ft worth
Rooms cleaned: 10
Wireless routers installed: 2
Cars cleaned: 1
Dishes done: Thousands
Rabbits fed: 2
Sheep fed: 5
Goats fed: 7
Dogs fed: 7
Pigs fed: 2
Horses fed: 3
Chickens fed: 17
Cats fed: 19

Meals made:
Funny cake, Cauliflower fritters, French fries, Fish tacos, Chicken fajitas, Apple pie, Bolognese sauce, Coffee cake, Pasta with Pesto sauce, Tagillini with Tomato Sauce, Spinach/Kale quiche, Phrogaritas, Mimosas, Wheat bread, Raisin bread, Nutella brownies, Lentil soup, Tomato soup, Kale chips

Miscellaneous:
Oceans swum in: 2 - Mediterranean Sea, Aegean Sea
Books read: The Alchemist, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Naked, ROOM, A Scattered Life, Eat/Pray/Love, 5 Romantic Comedies I will never admit to reading
Favorite Italian Word: Andiamo - "Let's Go"

Ciao, Bella

This is my last post from Italy as I am at the airport about to board.
Laying in my hostel bed for what will be final night abroad brings mixed feelings. Yes, I am totally excited to come home and I wouldn't delay it for anything. But going home means going back to reality. Getting back into a groove of life that I'm not entirely sure I want to get back into. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Rogliano and never left. There is a part of me that could have stayed in Monterchi and never left. But my home has always been Philadelphia. And now Austin as well. My main hope is that I keep my perspective. I have a new found respect for a bunch of things we take for granted everyday: heat, water pressure, friends, loved ones, a good nights sleep, a feline companion, waking around and feeling safe. I'm so thankful for all of these things. This Thursday is Thanksgiving and I can't imagine the long litany I will able to recite when asked what I am thankful for.
70 days has been the perfect amount of time to be away. Any more and I think I would have started to lose it a little bit. Any less and I would have been cursing having to come home so early. And as cliche as it sounds, I think this trip happened for a reason. Doors opened for me before and during in a way I couldn't have imagined. I mean think about it, I found a replacement for my job at work with a vetern who was just coming off of his own leave and needed a job, a friend of a friend happened to be moving down to Austin from Chicago and was looking to lease an condo, I was over my three years at my company and was eligibile for this unpaid time off, my friends offered to look after my cat and they all actually got along, I applied to ten farms in Italy and three wrote back - the three I am stayed with, I got a new job I have been wanting for months while being abroad, and my company did well enough this year that my bonus can actually cover this trip I have taken. I don't know what you call that, but that isn't just luck. This stuff doesn't just fall into your lap. Believe what you want, but I feel well nudged in the right direction. 
The thing is, all of this may have fallen into place for me, but I also think it can fall in place for anyone. It all depends on your risk and tolerence level. Anyone can do what I did, it's just a matter of manuevering in a way that sets you up to succeed. While I do feel a lot of doors opened for me, I also did a fair amount of prep work and organzing before I went. I think if you want it bad enough, almost anything is possible. And in the end, you find you can do things you were never pushed to do before. You can handle situations you never knew you could. You get introduced to a side of yourself that had been a complete stranger up until now. And between the two sides, you realize you can do amazing things.
Ciao, Italia.  

Soundtrack

This is a quick and dirty list of the songs that I noticed or were played at certain locations (not played by me). My Italian soundtrack: 
Creep by Radiohead but covered by an Italian - Suggested to me by the hotel clerk as a way to start to understand Italian. 
Love the Way You Lie by Eminem - Plays at dinner in Pompeii (I also heard it Rogliano, Florence and Sansepulcro. It was by far the most played American song I heard)
All I Want is You by U2 - Pogerno
Don't Stop Till You Get Enough by Michael Jackson - Drinking wine, 'reading' Italian paper in Amalfi
At Last by Etta James - Eating lunch looking over Amalfi coast in Ravello
Maria and Keith's - Sitting by the Dock of the Bay; anything Tarentella
Graduation party Maria took me to - The Macarena
Dozza - Phantom of the Opera. Sally whistling it all the time.  
Daytime Friends by Kenny Rogers - Stuck in my head from Keith and Maria's 
The Scientist by Coldplay - Dinner in Florence that was three hours. They played this song repeatedly.
You've Got a Friend by James Taylor - Peter plays it. 
Drive by REM (Automatic For the People) - My favorite CD in Peter's collection. 
Massive Attack's Protection album - Also at Lucie and Peters.  

Standard staples that I listened to pretty much the entire time I was travelling on my own iPod:
Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap
Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine (also Dog Days are Over)
Let the Drummer Kick by Citizan Cope
Anything on the 34th and 8th album by OAR but especially Black Rock and I Feel Home
Skinny Love by Bon Iver
One Red Thread by Blind Pilot
She's My Drive Home by Blue October
Watermark album by Enya - always blared it when trying to block out noise in a hostel
Viva la Vida by Coldplay

All in all, the music was much more mellow than I usually listen to on a consistent basis. The songs and artists I usually listened to back home to get myself in a better mood or to go along with my high energy just didn't seem appropriate at all. I would look at those songs and playlists on the iPod and scrunch my nose up at them. I don't know what I'm going to listen to when I get back home - whether this slight change in taste is another permanent result of my trip abroad.       

Waving the White Flag

AfteSfter two and a half days in Naxos, I am ready to leave. Not because i haven't enjoyed my time there, but more because all I have done is relax and be lazy. At Keith and Marias or Lucie and Peters, I would relax for awhile during the day and then be productive in some way by either doing dishes or sweeping the floor. I simply can not stand to do nothing - not activate - for long periods of time. It's actually impressive Naxos got me to sit idle for as long as it did, but now it's time to go.
At 6pm, under a full moon, the ferry pulls into the harbor of the island and cars, trucks and people swarm onto it. I can't imagine the absolute chaos this process must be during high tourist season, but they do this day in and day out, so they must have everything down pat by now. After I board, I grab a beer from the roof deck bar and watch as they pull the massive gate up while the "caution" music plays it's flutter of nursery rhyme chimes. I toast Naxos as it fades away and thank it for being what I needed it to be. Then I settle into a seat and delve into the latest girlie rom-com book I have downloaded.
Arriving in Athens close to midnight after the six hour trip, I notice that half of the people disembarking are young and dressed to go out - black pants, halter top and all. While I am exhausted and just want a bed, these people are about to go out for a night on the town, which, if they live on the islands, I can understand. Everyone knows everyone on the island and your ability to be anonymous and do things slightly out of character are nil. I can see how Athens would appeal to these people in that way and I envy their energy. After catching the metro from the port to the station nearest my hotel, I walk out from the subway and into the square where everyone appears to be partying and having a grand time. And again, all I want is my hotel and a bed. Man, I'm getting old.
In the morning, I wake not having had much sleep because the hotel walls are so thin you could have a conversation with the person in the next room without leaving your own. I heard someone sneeze somewhere and I said "bless you" out loud in reply - I'm pretty sure they heard me. I check out and head to the metro, again, to go to the airport. The Athens metro itself is incredibly clean. Compared to DC or Rome, the thing is downright spotless. So is the airport. Both are incredibly well kept and contrast so completely with the rest of the city that they seem like two different worlds.
Another confusing aspect of my travels, is Athens (and Italian for that matter) airport security. While they check your boarding pass to make sure you actually have one to let you into the initial area of the airport, they at no time check your identification until after you are through security and boarding the plane. The security screening process is more thorough that any other so far. They make me take my camera out and detach the lens. They check that my iPad is actually an iPad. But my identify? Nah, not interested.
The flight itself is completely without incident and because this is an EU flight, we exit the airport without passing through customs or additional security. There will be no Greece stamp in my passport, I realize now. But I'm going back someday - and next time WITH someone. There are so only so many sunsets you can watch by yourself before you want to stab yourself repeatedly in the eye with a dull spoon. There were three splendid ones in Naxos and I although it was somewhat lonely, loneliness and I seem to have called a truce for now. 67 days into my trip and I'm finally coming to grips with being alone. Great timing. But being at the Temple of Apollo on Naxos, one of the oldest remnants left standing on the island, I couldn't help but notice it's romantic pull. Because it is low season, I had the entire area to myself, the entire sunset, to myself. I thought about all of the engagements that had probably taken place where I was sitting. How many anxiety ridden men had put their heart on the line and how many ecstatic women had their hearts leap out of their chest with the question. But like I said, loneliness and I have waived the white flag, so I think about all of these imaginary couples and am happy for them. Bitterness and I have also apparently buried the hatchet. For now.
Back in Rome, I find myself in familiar territory. I'm staying at the same hostel as last week, so I know exactly where I am going and what I am doing. There's a first time for everything. In the week that I have been gone, the Christmas decorations have been put up and the air seems to have gotten a bit crisper. With the thought of the holidays creeping up all I can think of is my friends and family and how much I can not wait to be landing in Philadelphia. It's time to come home.  

My Kind of Paradise

As soon as I walk down the first street of Naxos, I know I am not leaving tomorrow. No way, no how. I have found the Greece, and the relaxation, I was looking for. I wander around for a good thirty minutes trying to find my hotel and as soon as I locate the beautiful resort my first order of business to get in touch with my travel agent and transfer my hotel and ferry reservations from Santorini to Naxos. As soon as that is settled, I don a huge giddy grin on my face and walk around one of my new favorite places in the world.
Being low season the island is deserted, by their standards. A few people roam the streets, but mostly I have a lot of the city to myself. I wander around the small side streets, wanting to take pictures of everything I see. Naxos is not postcard beautiful, meaning it isn't combed beaches with manecured palm trees and umbrella drinks. It is still very much Greece, but it is calm, relaxed, friendly and tropical - everything I was looking for. This is my kind of paradise. My kind of wonderful. It is the permanent home of 15,000 people and is the largest island in the Cyclades group. It has a rich history dating back to before 500 BC and is featured in many Greek myths. Now, their main form of income is tourism which means everyone speaks English and all signs are made so I can actually understand them (as well as in Greek).
By now it is probably very obvious that I am not going to Crete despite my earlier conviction that no matter what I was. While it would have incredibly time consuming to make the trip, I found that even beyond that, it was going to be incredibly expensive. To take the ferry to Crete, then fly to Rhodes and then fly back to Athens was going to cost me 355 euros ($500 USD) and that wasn't including hotels or meals. In contrast, to go to Santorini and Naxos, plus stay at hotels was going to cost me a total of 175 euros. The choice was obvious. And now that I am on Naxos, I am glad I made the choice I did. I was having a really hard time coming to grips with spending a lot of money this last week of my trip. While this has been one big timeout from my life, it has not, as we would think of it, been a vacation. I would say this has been more of an experiment and exploration than anything else, but I have given myself permission, rather stubornly, to pamper myself for the time in Greece. This is why going to Athens was such a disappointment. I was hoping to have that pure "I'm on vacation" feeling you get but instead I was given just the opposite - a good dose of anxiety and depression. On Naxos though, this is all erased and I find myself strolling. Or reading. Having a mimosa at 11:30 in the morning. I have fallen in love with this place not only because it is breathtaking to me, but also because of the lulling effect its atmosphere has had.
I don't know how it's possible, but Saturday brings an even more beautiful day than Friday. There is not a cloud in the sky and the temperature would make most people wear shorts. But not the Greeks. The locals remind me of Austinites in that sense. As soon as the temperature drops below 70 degrees in Austin, people break out the winter clothing desperate to push the season out of the sweltering summer and into the cooler fall and winter. It appears to be the same here.
Since it is such a lovely day, I wander down to St. George's beach being as it is so close to the hotel and I haven't gotten a chance to see it yet. The view is simply amazing. The Aegean stretches out before you with the horizon dotted with islands and their mountain peaks. The water itself is brisk, but absolutely crystal clear. Rolling up my jeans, I wade in and looking down the beach to the only two women swimming, an idea comes to mind. Wouldn't a swim be nice?
My main problem is that I have no bathing suit. The weather forecast did not predict the tempertaures to be this high, so the closest thing I have to an acceptable swimming outfit is my Under Armour dry wick t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. But I'm a tourist who no one will ever see again, so this will do just fine. Armed with my hotel towel, I set back to the beach and with less than a week before Thanksgiving, I slip into the ocean.

Photos - Latest Batch

From Monterchi to Greece:

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