Episode 14: Italian Passion
14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh
---
Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where people love me, there is my home."
---
Italian Passion – Italy, DAY 27
After leaving Florence, I continued heading south through Italy. My body showed no signs of improvement—besides the endless fatigue, my limbs felt like cotton candy, soft and powerless. It was as if my body had disconnected from my soul. I wanted to keep going, but my body wanted to stop; I wanted to chat with people, but my body wouldn't let my mouth move; I wanted to properly appreciate the beautiful scenery, but my body seized every opportunity to close my eyes. I was like a deflated ball slumped in a corner—my entire physical shell no longer obeyed my commands!
When I reached Chiusi, I met Andrea, a water sports instructor and Couchsurfing host who helped identify the cause of my problems.
"Food and sufficient nutrition are important. Your condition is completely due to not getting enough nutrients from your diet," Andrea explained. His home was filled with sports-related brochures. He was a vegetarian like me and also an organic food enthusiast—in his house, food had to bear organic certification labels to earn a place on the shelves.
"Protein is extremely important! And with you cycling every day, you need even more protein. The best source of protein comes from beans, so you need to eat lots of beans every day." As he spoke, he taught me how to cook beans and how to identify organic certifications, insisting these were the best food options.
That evening, the dinner table was laden with bean-based dishes, providing me with a hefty dose of protein.
The next day, Andrea took two cans of organic beans from his cabinet for me to take as lunch on the road, repeating his mantra from the previous day: "Protein, very important!"
This was the first time I realized there was a problem with my eating habits.
In the past, whether studying in school or starting to earn money at work, I always felt that spending money on food was wasteful. If I saved money on three meals a day, I could accumulate small amounts daily, adding some weight to my wallet by the end of the month. So whenever I planned to save money, my instinctive reaction was to cut food expenses first. This lifelong habit, combined with my insufficient travel budget, led me to mindlessly continue this practice, creating a major physical problem.
Now I had to face this issue and change my money-saving diet approach. But what could I do? Under my current economic conditions, my options were limited—I could only switch from bananas to canned beans found at supermarkets, certainly not the organic certified ones.
A few days later, Andrea left a message on my Couchsurfing profile, instructing other hosts planning to accommodate me to ensure they provided proper nutrition, emphasizing that bean protein was essential.
Andrea made me sound like a celebrity, with him acting as my agent, listing the requirements for my appearances. I laughed after reading it. This world is full of wonders—this journey started with just me, but now included the first German family who took me in, the elderly Austrian couple, the Austrian police officer, Jarek, Tina, the music teacher, David, the elderly woman at Piazza Maggiore, and now Andrea. I no longer felt alone. Though the journey had just begun, it was no longer mine alone!
After arriving in Viterbo, I was immediately captivated by the city's unique character.
I loved every Italian city, but for some reason, I had a special fondness for Viterbo. It was like love at first sight, gripping my heart deeply.
My Couchsurfing host Johnny had told me in advance that he wouldn't finish work until seven in the evening. I arrived in Viterbo before five, so I decided to cycle slowly through this beautiful city built against the hills, navigating through its maze-like streets in search of the address Johnny had given me.
After finding the street name from my note, I circled around several times but couldn't locate the house number Johnny had provided. Why did the numbers disappear after eleven? I began searching nearby streets for answers but found nothing.
A man approached on the street and exclaimed when he saw me: "Hey! You must be Min. I'm Johnny's friend, and I'm already preparing dinner for tonight. Are you lost? Don't worry, I'll take you to Johnny's house."
I didn't immediately comprehend how he knew I was looking for Johnny, or what dinner was about. But thinking about it, I must have been easy to recognize—an Asian woman cycling in Italy with a huge load of gear and luggage. The day before, when leaving my Couchsurfing host's home in Orvieto, I had weighed my luggage—it totaled over thirty kilograms, not including water and food.
This stranger led me through the small alley I had circled countless times, made another turn inside, and pointed to the number thirteen on a door: "Johnny will be off work soon. Wait for him here. I need to hurry back to prepare." With that, he waved goodbye happily and left.
I didn't know who he was, but at least he had helped me find my accommodation for the night.
Soon after, Johnny appeared at the corner with his briefcase, rescuing me from the cold air into a warm interior. He explained that arrangements had been made for the evening—we would have dinner at his good friend Federico's home, the enthusiastic man I had met on the street. He added that on his way home from work, Federico had called to say he had encountered me while out buying ingredients and was excited for us to come taste his home-cooked meal.
After cycling in Italy for over a month, I had grown accustomed to and enjoyed this period of what could be called free meals, free drinks, and free accommodation. At first, I would politely pretend to decline, even as the thought of the delicious food made my stomach growl, eager to devour everything.
In any case, whether due to my half-hearted refusals (more like saying one thing but meaning another) or my hosts' overwhelming hospitality, I gradually stopped worrying about or preparing dinner or snacks before arriving at a host's home.
Additionally, after Andrea's message from Chiusi, subsequent hosts not only saw his instructions but followed them, preparing abundant nutritious meals like a relay race. Given that everyone had started preparing food for me anyway, I had to update my Couchsurfing profile to note that I was a vegetarian to avoid the awkwardness of them preparing meat dishes.
I also discovered that Italian kitchens always had ginger root. I would ask my hosts for a small piece to steep in my water bottle, which unexpectedly reduced the pain of cold wind penetrating my body. Suddenly, I felt that this journey home was becoming increasingly indulgent!
At dinner, I shared stories from my journey and my upcoming route plans.
I'm a talkative person, but repeating the same content every day to enthusiastic Couchsurfing hosts was mentally tiring. Sometimes I felt like a broadcasting machine—press play when needed, repeat these stories, and of course, never forget the professional smile.
I felt guilty about this small impatience. After accepting so much help from others with such audacity, I should be thanking them endlessly rather than feeling tired. I reminded myself to perk up—interaction was one of the things I wanted from this journey!
"Will you be passing through Naples?" Federico asked when I paused my travel stories.
"Yes, Venice, Florence, Rome, and Naples are the four cities I definitely plan to visit in Italy," I replied. The truth was, during my planning, these were the only four Italian cities I knew. In fact, I had even thought Venice was a country!
"My sister and brother-in-law live in Naples with their eight-year-old daughter, who is absolutely adorable. If you'd like, I can call and ask if they can host you."
"Oh? That would be wonderful! I haven't started looking for a Couchsurfing host in Naples yet." I still had about two days to reach Rome, and I'd planned to figure out the rest once there. But having the opportunity to arrange accommodation for another location in advance? I was more than happy!
To my surprise, Federico immediately stood up, took his phone, and stood in a corner of the living room, rapidly speaking Italian. I really enjoy watching Italians talk—even on the phone, they never forget their gestures, as if they couldn't speak without them.
Federico turned toward me and approached: "Min, my niece wants to talk to you. She doesn't speak English, but that's okay, she just wants to hear your voice." He handed me the phone, adding, "Oh, and no problem—they're very welcoming and looking forward to having you stay with them for a few days in Naples!"
"Hello?" I took the phone, feeling the situation was a bit confusing—I was talking to an Italian child I'd never met who couldn't speak English.
"...Hello?" A childish voice came through the receiver, mixed with a few Italian words, followed by, "How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you. How are you?" For some reason, I spoke very slowly, using English I learned in the first lesson of middle school.
"I'm fine, thank you," the little girl on the phone replied.
Federico took back the phone, gesticulated animatedly while speaking for a while, then hung up. "She's quite the chatterbox," he said, pointing at the phone. "My sister and her family are very happy; they're waiting for you to visit."
Great! My accommodation in Naples was now arranged!
---
Closing Remarks
✨ Your Turn: When have you felt supported by a chain of kindness from others? How did it change your perspective on accomplishment?
📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.
📅 Next Episode: "Fashion Magazine"