Eye of the Beholder

[lifeoflizzy91]

Before Adam arrived, I explored the countries I visited more throughly. I spend about a month meandering around each country... After Adam arrived, that changed. We crossed many borders in the space of a week. Paris to Amsterdam. Amsterdam to Hamburg. Hamburg to Sweden.

It may seem like a whirl-wind week, in some ways it was. Nonetheless, there were also many long, sluggish bus rides, and abundant time spend leisurely sitting in grass... On benches... Stoop ways... Chairs... Anywhere mildly comfortable while we waited for our buses and trains to show up.  

Overnight buses are neither comfortable nor entirely pleasant... Yet still, some of the fondest memories I have are from those long nights.... Adam and I newly reunited, our romance slowly starting to grow and bud again from it’s short roots. We’d play card games for hours, drink Polish vodka, laugh about nothing, snuggly against one another for warmth, used each-others shoulders, laps, and legs for pillows. Contorting our bodies in our cramped seats trying to find one damn tolerable position to sleep in. 

[lifeoflizzy91]

Paris.

I didn’t get any great shots in Paris (I think I was a wee bit tired of always hauling my camera around.) Oh well.

I didn’t really fall in love with Paris, despite spending a fair amount of time there. I stayed at four different places, from both Airbnb and Couchsurfing, so I saw quite a few different neighborhoods. There were a few beautiful moments and memorable areas; but overall Paris felt quite lackluster.

Paris may have been drab... But I was still filled with exuberance while I was there. My elation was all due to one simple reason... 

My best-friend, Adam, met me here so we could start traveling together. I feel lighter when he is around.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Menton & Nice

After a month in Italy it was time to move on. I spent a few days wandering around and enjoying the sunshine and beaches of the picturesque Menton and Nice.   

At a hostel in Nice I met a girl named Sam, I throughly enjoyed hanging out with her. We shared a similar taste in music and never seemed to run out of things to chat about. It was rather refreshing! I hadn’t had such a relaxed and amiable conversation in a long time.

[lifeoflizzy91]

I’ll never forget my time in Ventimiglia. 

An odd little city. Everyone told me not to go to it... That it was just a boring border town. I’m glad I didn’t listen to them. The only reason I stopped there is because I was heading to France and my train arrived late in the evening. 

Ventimiglia has a simple and beautiful infusion of old and new architecture. I haven’t been to another city that intertwined both so well.

I found a host on Couchsurfing, a dancer named Yari. Yari is the real reason that I’ll never forget Ventimiglia. I found him to be a complex and deep person. He radiated with curiosity and a receptiveness to finding beauty in the small moments that so many of us overlook.

When I have more time I will right more about my brief experiences with this wonderful human.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Venice. I am infatuated with this city despite the throngs of tourists.

I love the sea.

Venice is dirty and crowded; but I can forgive it of all these lusterless things. The sea follows you everywhere here... The simple beauty of being surrounded by the flow of the sea withstands the degrading forces of the vapid masses that trod here every day.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Oh goodness I am so far behind on this blog! I have weeks and weeks to catch up on. For that reason, I’ll be writing less. I’ll write about the experiences later, but for now I’ll try to catch up on posting photos.

I got hosted in Porretta Terme, a tiny town near Bologna, for three nights. I stayed with a girl named Letizia, her grandmother, and their hordes of pets. Letizia was the first woman I stayed with from Couchsurfing.

My stay with Letizia turned out to be one of my favorite experiences on Couchsurfing. There are many memories from that short stay that I adore; a big and lively “typical Italian BBQ” at a house hidden in the rolling mountains, going out dancing at a huge club in middle of the woods, Letizia’s grandmother making breakfast and dinner for me; never satisfied until I was so full I couldn’t fit another crumb into my stomach.

It was hard to say goodbye to Letizia and her family. They showed me such warmth and kindness.

[lifeoflizzy91]

I struggle to see myself as others do; within these boundaries of flesh and bones. My world shrunk into this frail frame. I don’t have the words or the strength yet to describe my emotions and how entangled I am in them. But I will try; even if the words feel like they die on my lips and my sentences come out hopelessly jumbled.

I feel like I am a fluid being living within a static body. My soul constrained and unsettled inside this cage.

I feel like my soul is composed of fire. I don’t have enough substance within to sustain myself. I yearn for kindling; to be stoked, to burn with passion and intensity. But instead I’m just burning myself up, close to being extinguished. I cannot accurately describe it... I am nearly always battling an exquisite pain. It torments me; leaves me in anguish, desperation.

People call this “depression.” 

But it is so much more. I can’t remember ever feeling free of it. It’s been my longest and most loyal companion. 

It’s a black hole. It swallows everything. I’ve tried a thousand ways to leave it behind; it’s buried itself to deeply within my bones and sinews. I can hardly tell the difference between what is “me” and what is “it.” 

I wish beyond anything that I can give wholeness. But I am not whole. I am broken and fragmented. I want to bring light into people’s lives. But I am drowning. I’m fatigued. The effort to keep me head above water is becoming harder as each day, hour, minute passes. 

As much as I’d like to believe otherwise, I am both the child and monster.

Don’t mistake me words. I think this life is wondrous and beautiful. The cosmos is magnificent and elegant; even the smallest details leave me in awe. 

I have met and had the immense pleasure to connect and get to know many incredible and bright human beings. These connections mean more to me than anything. I could never summarize how much I appreciate bright eyes and good conversations. 

I am sorry about the mistakes I’ve made. The people I’ve hurt. I’m sorry I don’t write to my friends and family more. I don’t know what to say anymore; my mind is numbed and fogged. I don’t want to lie about the way I feel. Above all; I’m sorry that I couldn’t shake this and become a better person to the people I love and adore.

This never comes out right.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Rome.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Siena: a simple and pretty place. 

I probably should have drank more wine!

My host, Giuseppe, loved whiskey as much as I do. He introduced me to some good heavy metal music.

[lifeoflizzy91]

One defining thing I remember about Florence:

Hearts and Dinosaurs. 

Something about this graffiti art really caught my eyes and my imagination.

[lifeoflizzy91]

My host in Florence was a gentleman named Alessandro. The evening that I arrived, he took me to see the main sites of Florence on his moped. The sky was filled with the fading colors of the stormy day. Being on the moped made me forget about the crowds and just absorb the gorgeous scene.  It was a beautiful way to see Florence for the first time; the perfect way. We raced around on the streets, the wind on my face; my eyes overwhelmed with a thousand beautiful sites. Everything looked like a painting. When I went back and explored the area on my own; during the heat of the day and immersed in the crowd, it wasn’t the same. The magic was no longer there...

[lifeoflizzy91]

Lucca. I adore Lucca and the memories there. The ancient walls of the city have remained standing and intact as the city expanded beyond them. It’s a very green and lush region; the mountains are filled with low, dense trees and plants. I enjoyed the size of the place. Big enough to continue exploring it’s nooks and crevasses, but also small enough to feel familiar with it quickly. I have come away with many memories of my time here with my host, Ivan. So many memories squeezed into such little time!

“For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.”— Kahlil Gibran

With Ivan, there was never a moment wasted. Never hours killed; only hours lived.

Ivan has some trouble speaking English, he’s still learning. Nevertheless, we managed to communicate and understand each-other. Our hearts recognized the other-we shared and instant connection.

Ivan has an animated, captivating smile. He is abundantly confident and charming. He has a playful, intelligent, and sarcastic personality. Alert and perceptive, he is always enthusiastic, eager; embracing the little things in life. He has a buoyant soul.

It feels impossible to accurately relay all the beautiful and sublime moments of life in my writing. But I will attempt sum up a few.

Ivan took me to the zoo. It was a sweltering hot day. This heat, on a normal day, the heat would drain me of all my energy. Ivan is radiant, his presence vitalized me. He loves animals and was rampantly enthusiastic as we explored the zoo. He always shares his enthusiasm with me; constantly pointing out whatever catches his eye and excitedly exclaiming “Look! Look!” We fed the eager and greedy goats and the giraffe with it’s long and slobbery tongue.

He took me to the “Heart of Tuscany,” we sampled wines and soaking in the scenes. Green vineyards and blue skies in every direction; a bountifully beautiful area. We watched the sun set; the sky transformed into a brilliant arrays of soft pinks, intense oranges, and deep reds. 

Driving back, a hedgehog was curled in the middle of the road. Ivan, filled with sympathy for the creature, stopped and carried it to the tall grass on the side of the road... When he realized I was delighted by it’s appearance; he stopped the car again, found the hedgehog, and brought him into the back of the car for a few minutes. The hedgehog tentatively uncurled and explored it’s surroundings. I touched and pet it’s small, soft nose. I was filled with wonder for this cute, docile creature.

My favorite memory. Driving down the hill we spotted fireflies leisurely gliding amongst a vineyard. Ivan stopped the car and we got out and sat in the dark on the side of the hill. We breathed in the heady night air, let the subtile music of the night lull us. Flashing and glowing; the fireflies looked like tiny, celestial beings. Dancing stars come to visit the earth. It was a moment perfectly wrapped in poetry. Beautiful and divine. I wish I could capture that moment and relive it a thousand times.

“Incredible”

[lifeoflizzy91]

On my way to meet my host, Andrea, in Livorno, I accidentally got off at the wrong station. My head was in the clouds and I stopped at Pisa Centrale instead of Livorno Centrale. It should have been a quick fix, jump on the next train heading that way and get there 20 minutes late. However, Italian trains are notorious for being late, and it was set to prove that trait again that day. The reasons was vague (they never try very hard to clarify what causes the delays) but over an hour later no trains had come or left the station. I was feeling wholly anxious and terribly to keep Andrea waiting for so long. I eventually began talking to an older couple from Canada who was also waiting for the same train.. They were on a cruise and needed to get to Livorno before their ship departed. I suggested that we take a taxi and find a few more people heading the same way to split the cost.. After a few more minutes of waiting we put this plan into action. We persuaded three more people to come with us and all piled into a taxi.

I finally reached Livorno. Andrea turned out to be an astoundingly patient man. Even though I had kept him waiting for a long time, he gracefully assured me that it was fine and not to worry about it. I’m glad I got to met him! I enjoyed simply hanging out with him. He was relaxed and intelligent; our conversations were dynamic and flowed easily. I felt comfortable with him, like we were old friends.

A friend from Reno whom I hadn’t seen for a long time, Nick, happened to be in Pisa at the same time. It was a little moment of serendipity. We met up at The Leaning Tower of Pisa; the off-white marble of the tower looked beautiful against the clouds and blue sky. We had some coffee and snacks and then climbed to the top of the tower. Because the stairs were slippery, I briefly took off my sandals at the top. The cold marble felt smooth and pleasant underneath my bare feet...  We stopped to get gelato on our way back to the train station, the kindness and genuine smile of young man who served us warmed my soul. Bright smiles and connections with others is exceedingly more beautiful to me than any monument or landmark.

[lifeoflizzy91]

I was hosted by Ivan for two days in La Spezia. While I was there he showed me around the beautiful towns of Cinque Terre and Portobello. Ivan is a writer; he knows poetry lies not in the main streets filled with loud and gaudy tourists, but rather on the quieter streets and in the secluded areas. This land is splendidly gorgeous. The towns are small, they coexist with nature; rising and falling with the uneven landscape. The rolling hills are filled with rugged, lush terraces. The sea was choppy and turbulent the days I was there; it crashed against the land, trying to convince the stoic stones to join in on the impassioned dance of the waves.

It be hard to quantify my stay with Ivan as simply “good” or “bad.” It lay somewhere in-between. It wasn’t an entirely positive Couchsurfing experience. I’ll share my reference that I wrote for him on Couchsurfing because it sums things up well:

This is the most difficult reference I’ve written… I can’t tell you his side of the story, I can only tell you mine. To say my experience with him was “positive” is too facile; my brief stay with him was filled with highs and lows. He is, in essence, a proud and emotional Italian writer. He has a true artist soul; always questioning, always pensive. An artist is extremely sensitive to the world, and sensitive can lead to pain… It seemed to me this has caused him some bitterness towards life and people. As he even pointed out, he and I had different ways of communicating; which was at times frustrating. He’s very direct and forward, I communicate with stories and diversions. He seeks concreteness and I thrive on ambiguity. I don’t think he could understand that. However, I felt like we’d had something in common. We had potential for a great connection; but we radiated on different wavelengths. We were like two sides of the same coin, viewing life from the same material, the same essence; but nevertheless always staring in the opposite direction. Never able to turn and see the other. He was always critical, cynical. He was critical of my silences and critical of my ramblings. By the end I felt that he had judged me, and had found me wanting. I felt like my presence irritated him. I left feeling a bit dismal... Despite the way he made me feel, I have respect for him. He’s a throughly honest person, he’ll show you amazing places hidden from most travelers eyes, he’ll open up his time for you. You’ll come away from the experience with a vivid impression; strong characters like him always inspire thought. So, I’ll rate the experience as “positive” because he is a worthy person to know.

His intensity, despite being negative, inspired my creative side. I wrote notes urgently, madly. His passions, complexities, and bitterness embodied a great character to compose for a book; perhaps I will use that someday.

A moment that I must mention:

After leaving Ivan’s house, I was wandering around La Spezia trying to find the train station. My mind was immersed in melancholy. The disjointed interaction with the stewing mind of Ivan had left me feeling drained and disconnected. I was a little off-course, so I walked into the towns information center to get directions. While I was waiting in line an older women started to talk to me. Her eyes were partially murky, shrouded by white milky clouds. Despite this her eyes still were glowing with life and love. She invited to take me to the train station in her car with her disabled husband and their driver. 

It was a short interaction with these human beings. But, oh, was it beautiful! Her husband was kind, quiet; she was communicative, unreserved, expansive... She was brimming with life. Overflowing with life. She shared her exuberant love and affection freely. I was instantly elevated and reanimated from this brief synergy. 

She invited me to come visit them in New York and handed me her card when they dropped me off. On the card it said she was an artist, a painter. I feel as if I’ve met the two incarnations of the artist. The brooding, bitter artist. Restless and always trying to find the phantom that eludes him. And the vibrant and loving artist. A bubbling brook of creativity, energy, life and love. 

Where will my restless and impassioned soul lead me?

[lifeoflizzy91]

Genova, my first city in Italy. It’s a beautiful area. The front of the city hugs the sea and beautiful green hills surround the rest.

My host, Steph, an engineer. He was intelligent and very analytical, but not always socially adept. He relishes being different and a bit odd. He energetically showed me around Genova and I got my first taste of Italian coffee with him. He had many pretty birds at his apartment that chirped and sang while we chatted and cooked.

[lifeoflizzy91]

I took an over-night ferry from Barcelona to Genoa. Less than a minute after putting my backpack in my room and excitedly running out into the deck; my dreams of staying up and enjoying the darkness of the night and the stillness of the vast sea vanished. The deck was mostly filled with men, men that starred at me with ravenous eyes. Never have I been surrounded by some many overtly creepy and shameless men. This is the first situation were I felt completely out of place and in danger traveling as a female alone. I knew instinctively that it would be a very bad plan to wander around the ferry for very long that night; I stuck out like a sore thumb. I decided to buy a bottle of water and retreat back to my room for the night. 

But the room felt small and stifling. I felt trapped in that closed and prosaic space. The confines of the room felt like a metaphoric example of the confines of my grim and disconnected heart... My anxieties a constant chorus in my head; always subtitling playing in the background. In this moment the chorus rose and it’s insistent high melody felt like it would crush and break my chest. 

An older Italian women sharing the room with me came through the door. She began speaking to me slowly and patiently; we could barely understand each other. Nonetheless, she stubbornly persisted in trying to communicate with me. She wrote down and taught me a buddhist chant “NAM MIO HO RENGHE KYO.” Making me repeat it over and over again until she was satisfied I was pronouncing it correctly. She said it would bring me strength and safety throughout my travels and life... It was a beautiful experience; her sharing her religion and passion; not to convert to me to her way of thinking, but rather to bring me courage and and security. Her presence warmed and expanded the drab room.  She embodied womanhood grown wise; steady, strong, and kind. I felt safe and calmer in her presence. My panicking thoughts were drowned out by her utterly “real” and genuine presence.

[lifeoflizzy91]

Barcelona didn’t quite capture me... Perhaps the few days I had weren’t enough to woo the city and bring out the beautiful sides... For two days I spend a few hours walking around the streets alone. It felt like city grown fat and weary on it’s reputation, its popularity. I saw glimpses of a once grand city; but the hoards of people that fall upon it every year has left it degraded and apathetic. Gaudi’s La Sagrada Familia was the saving grace of the city for me. It is imposing and striking. Distinct and odd. It is a building that doesn’t fully satisfy; it’s architecture generates curiosity and interest. I have a deep intrigue for the mind that created this expressive and dramatic structure.  

I found a host on Couchsurfing, David. He lived in a cozy modern apartment with his mischievous and rambunctious cat. He was relaxed and I felt at easy with him quickly. He had an affable and quirky personality. His laugh was contagious; rich and full. He’d be watching tv and suddenly break out laughing; the joy in his laughs would infect me and I would soon start laughing along with him for no particular reason. During my stay he took me to a BBQ at his friend apartment. There was a wall lined with blank photo frames; an unintended poetic reminder of memories yet to be made.  We spend many hours there in the company of pleasant, easy-going and bright people. 

I was fortunate to see two girls that I met in the San Sebastian hostel again, Gabrielle and Rachel. We met up for a dinner near the beach a few hours before I was scheduled to leave Barcelona. I was wonderful to see them again and also to meet another solo female traveler that was staying at the hostel with them. They are both laid-back and approachable. Gabrielle has a calm confidence, a natural femininity. She’s mellow and intelligent.  Rachel tend to be the quieter one; but once I started talking to her, she’s becomes boisterous and completely amusing. She’s sarcastic, clever and quick-witted. I wish I had been able to spend more time with them. This is the best thing about big cities; you know it’s more likely that you’ll happen upon a familiar face again; all drawn to the bright lights of the city like moths to a flame. 

And of course Jorge... I had messaged him on Couchsurfing and we decided to meet up. From the moment I met him on the busy and windy street, he radiated energy and enthusiasm. We immediately started exchanging sarcastic remarks and laughter. Jorge, though he may not have known it, helped me regain some confidence. Because I have been humbled by this trip. I was looking for a distraction from my troubled mind and laden heart; but instead I’ve found myself faced directly with it. I’ve felt all my faltering strengths fall and slip to the ground as easily as I step out of my clothes. I feel naked, even more vulnerable to my doubts and anxieties than ever before... But how lovely, how wonderful to be reminded of the simple and profound beauty of truly connecting with another soul. I remember him most fondly in the metro station; his brown eyes lost in thought, his mind churning. He has a constant desire, not exactly to please others, but to do good for everyone. I think he’s a throughly good person; a better person than I am. I wish he could see himself through my eyes; the apparent and luminous beauty of his heart. Even though he had to get ready for a trip himself, he accompanied me to the dinner with Gabrielle and Rachel and then walked with me all the way to the ferry station before we said our goodbyes.

The bland city didn’t capture me; but the people I spend time with while I was there remain vivid in my mind.