Two Writers. One Summer

Mellisa and Jyoti are traveling through Europe this summer and are sharing their trip with YOU through vlogs, pictures and blogs! One city girl comedian and one country girl professor take you through their summer of 2013!

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THINGS CARRIED. THINGS LOST. THINGS LEFT BEHIND

                        Things Carried. Things Lost. Things Left Behind

In case you’re wondering, of course Tim O’Brien inspired this post. His work always does… Anyway, we stuffed our backpacks and took off to find something this summer. Maybe a deeper sense of self? Sure. A place to reflect? Absolutely. Time to restore ourselves? Seems the closest purpose of this trip, actually. Jyo and I work multiple jobs all year—extra so that we could pull off this trip. We lost t-shirts, toothbrushes, bras (not like you think, people), tennis shoes, headphones, a dog (but we found her…), inter alia. Anyway, we found more things than we’ve lost. Maybe “found out” or discovered are a bit more apt here.

At the top of the list, I discovered that I’m too hard on myself. That I don’t think I deserve to relax. Success is not an option. I wrestle, nay strangle any challenge that blocks me from what I want. So while we’ve been away, I’ve also continued teaching online. The writing  and revision continues (I can’t stop that…so it’s not a problem). Mostly, though, I’ve lost a small part of the old me. In short, I woke up and faced a monster much darker and deeper-rooted than the one in Ness’s/Dowd’s stunning novel. So what does all of this mean?

I don’t have a clue.

All I know is that hitting the pause button, even the stop button is critical if I want to maintain sanity/balance/”normalcy” (whatever that means). I’m beyond thankful for the folks who remain steadfast by my side and for the new life long friends I’ve made. And for the friends and family who are no longer around. I pause. Stop. Look about. And I marvel.

Grazie to our followers for sharing and believing in our journeys this summer! E’ presto!

Ciao,

Mell

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BY THE BELLS

                                                      By the Bells

Here, in Noepoli, Basilicata, Italy, folks don’t look at their watches or phones for the time. They listen for the bells. Here, they buy peaches and tomatoes, strings of garlic, onion, and fresh mozzarella all from the men who shout from their trucks. The women (mostly) flock to them with Euro and hope for a large mid-day meal and then a light dinner later. Stray dogs and feral cats roam the stone streets and winding paths, around and around into secret-yet-not-so-secret passages leading you past clay houses with terracotta roofs to a Tabacchi or into one of only three bars in the village. Where the men sit in a line, all in red plastic chairs. They greet you: “Buona Sera!” As they all sip an Italian beer or limoncello or cella grappa, or some such. As the jackdaws and swallows flock overhead, their wings flap on the wind like a row of Italian women, raising their sun-dried shirts or sheets above their heads in tandem and snapping them, over and over, and over. As night falls, the stars emerge and the sun, a prick of pink now, far in the distance, sets over a tiny village ruled by Albanians and locals. Your hostess steps onto the terrace with her long lens telescope. Pointing at Venus or Ursula Major or some other constellation that she knows by heart, the stars mapped in her soul, always felt more than seen. She asks about your writing. You say, “It’s fine” because that’s what you always say even when it’s not. And you wonder if it’ll ever be fine because then you’d stop writing all together. There’s no fun in fine. The winds pick up, the red wine, gone now, the telescope, placed inside beside the wing-backed chairs, across from the breakfast table. Where frittatas, house-made apricot jam, and coffee will await you the next morning, when you awaken by the bells.

Ciao,

Mellisa

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Oh Vigevano! We miss you already. This is a little piece of Vigevano I want to share. The local bar keeps a guitar around to mess around with, but we found some legit musicians there =) including our host! <3 ENJOY

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Breakin' and Fixin'

                                                Breakin’ and Fixin’

Ciao from Milan (well, from Vegevano, anyway—a small town one hour and a half west of Milan, with stretches of cornfields, swamps, peach trees, dirt roads, and mosquitoes (Perfection)!

This trip has afforded us ample time to reflect. So... Jyoti and I are convinced that we drop and break things more than anyone else on the planet. If it ain’t broken, we’ll break it for you.

Things we’ve broken on this trip so far: 1. One shower head (Paris). 2. A Kenny from South Park keychain (yes, we killed Kenny—also Paris). 3. One bottle of champagne. (Barcelona) 4. Two necklaces. (London and Amsterdam). 5. One beer bottle (Barcelona). 6. One Barcelona Magnet (obvious). 7. One tire on a bicycle in Milan (don’t ask). 8.  The chain strap on my purse, while gambling in Monte Carlo. 9. Our budgets. (Only on one night in Monte Carlo but I won a lot, so the budget’s on track). 9.5. We lost our host’s dog, Penny, but she returned… (Milan).10. Maybe a few hearts. (So we've been told)... 

But, as often as we break things, we also fix them, or at least work on fixin’ them—which is the main purpose of this trip and life, really—to remove ourselves from the familiar, to crack open, to absorb, and then to piece ourselves together again—chipped, full of cracks, but not as fragile.

I can’t think of another soul in the world to break and fix with than my best friend.

A piu’ tardi,

Mell

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The adventurous search for the soup...

Been meaning to tell y'all about the search for the soup.

Onion soup (they don't need to add the french part in France) is a winter delicacy in France HENCE it is difficult to find in the summer. After some intense Google searching, Mellisa and I found a place called Moncey's that had amazing Yelp reviews about their soup. I jotted down directions and we were on our way. Did I mention we had to take three trains to get there... we meant business.

As we get close to the address... Moncey's is nowhere to be found so we step into where the restaurant should be. Unfortunately, Moncey's was turned into an american steakhouse and no.... onion soup was not on the menu. 

Dissatisfied, we went on our merry way and came across a fancy bistro and to our surprise.... onion soup was on the menu.

yah yah yah.... we had some and it was delicious and totes hit the spot BUT the adventure didn't stop there. We realized that the soup had led us to a part of Paris that we had never seen. We saw a sign and realized we were near to the Sacre Coeur... so we followed the cobblestone pathway to a part of Paris that looked like Paris (you know what i mean? Probably not.) A part of Paris that wasn't industrialized by modern days... a part that was probably standing there centuries and centuries ago. For a part of town that is full of tourists... it felt so French. =)

So we ventured up the hill... skipping the whole way and when we turned the corner, our jaws fell to the floor. The view. It was spectacular...it was something you have to see. A moment in life where time actually stands still and you take a deep breath and realize... everything is okay.

everything will always be okay.

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THE TAMING OF THE BREW

The Taming of the Brew

Turns out a proper English pub is a writer’s paradise (perhaps the feeling Sly experienced when taken in from obscurity)—oh, and the stories, oh, the stories... A view of The Thames, a Guinness in one hand, a fork in the other, on the ready for the fish and chips in front of you. Steaming and soaked in malt vinegar, as you break off one last bite before passing the platter to your best friend or the fine mate to your left. And y’all will laugh, share stories about your Moms/Mums, or how the Duchess would never be caught dead in ripped-off, light wash, denim shorts with two toned, horizontal striped tights worn beneath (BTW, Euro trend alert)!

But as the moon rises a smidge above The London Eye, and the clouds admire themselves on the river, you sigh, unbutton your lemon-grass jeans, and sink into your seat. And everything around you is still but for the ring in the laugh of the mate next to you. Which carries the cadence of your best friend’s laugh. Which is practically like your own. And before you know it, you’re toasting each other.

And for what?

You have no idea. But the chorus of clanks is the same as back home. And the way the moon glints off your glass is like candlelight, or a tiny beacon, directing the conversation in directions none of you had ever anticipated. And although everyone and everything around you is so close, so familiar even, it is also far, far away, like all of the photographs in the textbooks you’ve studied.

And you find yourself filling up again, breathing in this close-yet-so-far-away world around you after an involuntary sabbatical away from it all.

One that carried you far, far away from yourself.

Immerse yourself in the unfamiliar, in the far-far-away. And toast your friends as you do (you don’t need a reason).

~Mell

p.s. Found this gem in my journal after a long night: "Fascinating couple. She wears purple extensions, and I think they're swingers. They're awesome."

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take my breath away and make my heart skip a beat why don't ya....

I'll keep it short.

I got onto a bus in amsterdam in this morning and instantly fell asleep. [obvs tired from loooooooong night out]. When I woke up... i forgot where I was, but then again I wasn't where I fell asleep. My heart literally skipped a beat when I looked out my window and saw that I was in Brussels, Belgium. The buildings are so beautiful and the streets are thriving in the middle of the day. I loved the architecture in this city, but I was only there for one reason and one reason only.... Waffles and chocolates. How many people can say... OH. I just stopped into Brussels for brunch before I jetted off the Paris?!?

Feeling more than blessed <3

  xoxo J

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We are like totally reunited again.... like totes awesome dude.

So everyone in New York could not get over my valley girl accent.... I didn't even know it was that prominent until this trip. I mean... I hear it now, but it's like totally not that serious.

I found my Mell at JFK last night before we hopped on our plane to London. We are safely in London now, staying with some family of mine. Keep in mind that this is the first time I am ever meeting my aunt and uncle yet they have treated us like daughters since we walked onto british ground. My lovely aunt had an emergency with the baby and instead of messaging me to take a cab... she sent a car to come get us. Then she fed us lunch and took us grocery shopping. We honestly feel right at home... more me than mell since there is Indian TV! lol. My second cousin (the baby) is so adorable and I cannot get enough of her. You'll sure get to see her in the first london video.

We are definitely enjoying ourselves and are going to hit the town tonight for some more adventures. =)

[BIG SHOUT OUT TO KAVITA!!! You are awesome and thanks so much for taking me in! Love you, moti!]

P.S. it's not "baggage claim"... it's "baggage reclaim"... which actually makes a lot more sense when you think about it.

<3 J

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