A month ago I was preparing my first trip to Italy, more exactly Florence, as you have probably read on my blog. Low cost flights from London land on Pisa, and that was exactly what I did. It is really easy to get to Florence from Pisa. You can take a bus or the train. I took the train – there’s is a shuttle that will take you from the airport to the train station in a matter of minutes – called PisaMover – and the train to Florence takes only about 45 minutes!
Florence is where all the big masters were at some point, creating some of the most disrupting pieces that would mark an Era and change the paradigms of a world once emerged in darkness. For me, stepping on the grounds where the great master had once been was surreal. As I mentioned on my previous Florence post, I traveled in time, I smelled the wet and dirty medieval streets, and imagined I was living at the same time as Lorenzo de Medici, Il Magnifico, the great patron of Arts.
Every time I come back home from any trip, especially when that trip went really well and I’ve absolutely loved it, I find myself emerged in this kind of lethargy. I just sit down, scrolling through my photographs, reviving these moments I just lived. I think about what I have seen and experienced, and even though I only arrived a few days ago, it always looks like a dream. Like a parallel reality, or something that has happened light years ago.
From time to time I find myself struggling to deal with the different callings I feel coming from my mind and heart. One of the things I find hard to deal with is my intense need to live in the middle of chaos, almost as if attracted to it, opposed to my eagerness to emerge myself in the wilderness, to listen to the sound of nature, and be smashed by the power of views on which no human hand had a part to play, views that make tears come to my eyes, views that make me feel small and understand how irrelevant we are, mere humans, mere dust in the universe. How insignificant. How little.
I arrived yesterday from Edinburgh, and yet it seems like a dream. Looking back, it looks like I wasn’t there yesterday or last weekend, but in a faraway past. Perhaps because going to Edinburgh was much more than traveling in space; it was traveling in time. I’d say it was precisely this: a trip to the Past, a magical trick that took me to a different era.
There these places where you want to go for a very particular reason. I wanted to go to Liverpool and I had a single reason for it: The Beatles. I didn’t have any expectations on the city itself. My main interest was to visit the city where one of my favourite and best music groups that has ever existed was born. Basically, to go back in time to very beggining of it all. Continue reading “Liverpool, the Rock n’ Roll UK’s District”→
Yesterday was a lovely Saturday. For the first time in a long time, it was weekend and it was sunny in London. Staying at home would be a crime, and when you live for so long in a city where most days are greyish, when the sun does comes out you value it more than ever.
One of the things I say the most about London (which I believe it applies to big cities in general) is that it is a demanding lover. You do love it, so fucking badly, but it demands so much of you that tires you up. So, despite loving this, sometimes my body requires a break from everything – the crowds, the noise, the confusion, the queues, the pollution. And it’s sort of funny that I only realise this when I look at my life in London with some distance.
Brussels was my last stop, where I stayed for 2 nights, not really knowing what to expect from the capital of Belgium. When you think about Brussels, I believe that one of the first images coming to your head is politicians in suits and ties, shaking hands in yellow smiles, European Union, the Euro, the Commission. To be honest, this doesn’t even interests me that much. Seeing the buildings where great, smart and stupid decisions are taken in consideration was certainly part of my route, but it was far from being a priority. I knew Brussels was the home of Rene Magritte’s Museum and that was one of my priorities. And I also really wanted to eat waffles – I had been smelling them all around Belgium without trying – and Frites, the famous Belgian fries.
Everytime I thought about Antwerp, my imagination would go wild. I imagined it as a stylish and cosmopolitan place, but at the same time keeping the essence of tradition. I imagined it beautiful and majestic. And I wasn’t wrong. As soon as I got to Antwerp I knew I was in a special place: the train station is magnificient, absolutely beautiful. Actually, one of the most beautiful buildings I saw in Antwerp.