[My favorite photo from the trip; our feet in Venezia.]
It was Brook Silva-Braga’s 2007 documentary A Map for Saturday that set this recent trip in motion. (Sadly) little-seen outside of a self-selected twenty-something set, Silva-Braga’s film is a year of his own life on film, more truly raw and humble a travelogue than you’ll find in any written form. In it, he offers that traveling is like piecing together a map for the eternal Saturday; waking up to a whole new world everyday. He follows other “extreme long-term travelers” as they jump from one youth hostel to another in the world’s most beautiful places, touching each others’ lives and journeys along the way. It’s a messy existence, emotional and oft-surreal, but it’s proof that it’s never too late or too difficult to jump far beyond the lines we all draw around ourselves. It’s the kind of inspiring montage you can really get behind; hear these travelers talk, see them sunburned and joyful, or sometimes tearful, and you’ll know immediately that there’s a whole world you’re missing from your couch. I watched it on a hot summer evening last year, and by the end I was sweating and crying into my beer, both with possibility and the anger that I’d never had the notion to take myself anywhere. It would take almost a year from that point to gather the guts (well, and the funds) to take a journey. A few weeks ago, my beautiful friend Catherine and I flew from Atlanta and landed in Rome, set to circle through Italy in two weeks' time. Two weeks, we quickly realized, was not nearly enough time. So we grasped every minute, good and bad--the fatigue and the joy, if you will, tired feet and too many beers, the smiles and the tears as we encountered places and people we never imagined.
And, you know what? Silva-Braga is right. Americans spend most of their time gathering money to buy things they never have time to use; isn’t some of that money better spent on collecting experiences? Travel doesn’t have to be a four-star, save-up-for-three-years kind of thing; it can be, actually, the here and now. There are people out there to meet, to learn from, and infinite venues within which to do it. Here are a few of our experiences.
At a cafe in Napoli, third night of the trip. We met up with Catherine's brother David there, and his lovely wife Meg (pictured below). I wish we had a photo of our Napoli hostel host; Giovanni opens his home (nestled in a 700-year-old apartment building) to roughly twenty young strangers every evening. He made us feel safe in a city that isn't cozy. Napoli is old and stunning, but it's also scarred--by graffiti, crime, and a frenetic bustling.
Here's the crew we made in Firenze. Three Americans, two Canadians, one Brit, and one Aussie. We were all staying at the same hostel--a place called Emerald Fields; on the way from the train station, Cath and I joked that we didn't quite know what to expect with a name like that. And we'd already been attacked by bedbugs once on the trip (no comment). But we found that Emerald Fields translates to "hostel miracle"; we lived out some of what Silva-Braga's film is all about. We gathered on the back patio, shared wine, and within a few hours the group was cemented in a way that only this kind of travel allows. Everyone arrived there from different places, and we were the only ones traveling in a pair. These travel-warriors were all on their own, for months at a time some of them, and they inspired me in ways I won't even attempt to put into words. I fell in love with Florence. It, and these people, stole a piece of my heart that I gladly give up.
This may be the most representative photo of me ever taken. I look exactly like my mother here. I'm bleary-eyed and caffeine-deprived, first thing in the morning. This was my first cappuccino in Italy, by the way. (in Sorrento)
We were, with great joy, reunited with part of the Florence crew a couple of days later in Roma. We made plans to meet up at the Trevi Fountain at 4pm on that Saturday. Catherine and I reveled in how cinematic that sounded. And we wondered if it could actually happen. It did. Here's us with Keven, almost the very moment of the reunion.
At the Piazza of the People in Roma, second-to-last night of the trip for me and Catherine. Post-dinner, but before the bulk of the vino. Patricia, Keven, myself, and Juan (from Colombia, via the UK); Catherine took this spontaneously and loves it. I do as well. It's us caught up in a moment we probably couldn't even have imagined would mean as much as it does. At least for me. These are moments, memories, that I hope to keep with me forever.
Such smiles!
Catherine and her sister-in-law, Meg; this was back in Napoli. We drank, ate dinner, and then stumbled about in the city as it lit up at night.
Venezia! One thing I loved is how many dogs (with owners, no worries!) roamed about on the cobblestone streets. I love this photo because it captures, more than I've ever even seen in myself before, pure joy. To be winding through the narrow streets of Venice, stopping to buy scarves and eat gelato, Catherine by my side...well, it was picture-perfect.
Amy and Dan, last night in Florence.
No comment?
Mask-shopping in Venice.
We went to Pompeii for the third afternoon of the trip. It was hot, my feet hurt, but walking through the ruins was a singular kind of experience. Like being inside every world history textbook I'd ever had plopped in front of me at school. As we were leaving, rain broke into the sky; Vesuvius lit up in this blue/green gloomy light, and I cried a little.
One of the thousand reasons I fell in love with Florence.
Lazy late afternoon in Roma...with a lot of beer. The light made the pictures that day look blue.
Beginning of the trip, in Napoli, so we had tons of energy. But this photo sums us up rather well; we were a little team for two weeks, trudging through, raising our arms in excitement more times than I could count.
And, you know what? Silva-Braga is right. Americans spend most of their time gathering money to buy things they never have time to use; isn’t some of that money better spent on collecting experiences? Travel doesn’t have to be a four-star, save-up-for-three-years kind of thing; it can be, actually, the here and now. There are people out there to meet, to learn from, and infinite venues within which to do it. Here are a few of our experiences.
At a cafe in Napoli, third night of the trip. We met up with Catherine's brother David there, and his lovely wife Meg (pictured below). I wish we had a photo of our Napoli hostel host; Giovanni opens his home (nestled in a 700-year-old apartment building) to roughly twenty young strangers every evening. He made us feel safe in a city that isn't cozy. Napoli is old and stunning, but it's also scarred--by graffiti, crime, and a frenetic bustling.
Here's the crew we made in Firenze. Three Americans, two Canadians, one Brit, and one Aussie. We were all staying at the same hostel--a place called Emerald Fields; on the way from the train station, Cath and I joked that we didn't quite know what to expect with a name like that. And we'd already been attacked by bedbugs once on the trip (no comment). But we found that Emerald Fields translates to "hostel miracle"; we lived out some of what Silva-Braga's film is all about. We gathered on the back patio, shared wine, and within a few hours the group was cemented in a way that only this kind of travel allows. Everyone arrived there from different places, and we were the only ones traveling in a pair. These travel-warriors were all on their own, for months at a time some of them, and they inspired me in ways I won't even attempt to put into words. I fell in love with Florence. It, and these people, stole a piece of my heart that I gladly give up.
This may be the most representative photo of me ever taken. I look exactly like my mother here. I'm bleary-eyed and caffeine-deprived, first thing in the morning. This was my first cappuccino in Italy, by the way. (in Sorrento)
We were, with great joy, reunited with part of the Florence crew a couple of days later in Roma. We made plans to meet up at the Trevi Fountain at 4pm on that Saturday. Catherine and I reveled in how cinematic that sounded. And we wondered if it could actually happen. It did. Here's us with Keven, almost the very moment of the reunion.
At the Piazza of the People in Roma, second-to-last night of the trip for me and Catherine. Post-dinner, but before the bulk of the vino. Patricia, Keven, myself, and Juan (from Colombia, via the UK); Catherine took this spontaneously and loves it. I do as well. It's us caught up in a moment we probably couldn't even have imagined would mean as much as it does. At least for me. These are moments, memories, that I hope to keep with me forever.
Such smiles!
Catherine and her sister-in-law, Meg; this was back in Napoli. We drank, ate dinner, and then stumbled about in the city as it lit up at night.
Venezia! One thing I loved is how many dogs (with owners, no worries!) roamed about on the cobblestone streets. I love this photo because it captures, more than I've ever even seen in myself before, pure joy. To be winding through the narrow streets of Venice, stopping to buy scarves and eat gelato, Catherine by my side...well, it was picture-perfect.
Amy and Dan, last night in Florence.
No comment?
Mask-shopping in Venice.We went to Pompeii for the third afternoon of the trip. It was hot, my feet hurt, but walking through the ruins was a singular kind of experience. Like being inside every world history textbook I'd ever had plopped in front of me at school. As we were leaving, rain broke into the sky; Vesuvius lit up in this blue/green gloomy light, and I cried a little.
One of the thousand reasons I fell in love with Florence.
Lazy late afternoon in Roma...with a lot of beer. The light made the pictures that day look blue.
Beginning of the trip, in Napoli, so we had tons of energy. But this photo sums us up rather well; we were a little team for two weeks, trudging through, raising our arms in excitement more times than I could count. Sharing sites with people, those intimate moments of travel during which your mind and your entire heart might be confronted, tested...well, that's surreal. Share them with people you JUST met, and it'll blow your mind. For me, it's proof that there is such a thing as synchronicity, some kind of force that brings the right people together in the right moments.
See you all back out there soon. I'm just getting started on my map for Saturday.
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