Independence

In France I traveled with a partner. In Italy I met my sister, made friends, and connected with some family. In Holland I collided with a college buddy and in Eastern Europe a friend, made along the way, invited me to share a bit of her world. Therefore I have not yet been a true solo traveler, but I am craving a change. Although it feels like, in this world with 6 billion people, someone is always nearby to cross a lonely path.

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I decided at the beginning of the trip I would go without a mobile telephone. Up until Vienna this did not cause me trouble, and it has been inspiring me to live as if in a simpler time. Unfortunately, upon arriving at the Vienna train station my host was nowhere to be found. All payphones in the area were out of order and I had no way of contacting Claudia. After scheming my way into a hotel, free of charge, to use the internet I found directions to her address and started to head toward her home. With feelings of nervousness (I hadn't had to sleep on a park bench yet) and confidence (in my ability to navigate through problematic situations) I moved in the direction of her house. After traveling only 10 meters into my late night adventure (did I mention it was 1:30am in a city I had never been before?) I herd a hiss and a holler of my name. Of course, it was Claudia. After a miss-communication on the meeting location she found me roaming the streets as a vagabond.  I guess her impression wasn't to far off since I am traveling aimlessly from place to place carrying everything I have on my back. After that it was smooth sailing and calm seas, with a few squalls here and there of course. 

The first thing I did the next day is proof that I am fit for the degree I have recently acquired. 

The birth place of Psychoanalysis: The Freud House

 I walked through the rooms of his office in the same manner as one walks through a funeral. All people were silent and I felt as if I needed to hide the fact that I was having fun. I saw memorabilia that gave me the impression I was close to Dr. Freud's spirit. As I read the abstract of an article he published I had a realization. The article was in response to a study proving that cocaine was addictive. Sigmund used his personal experience to defend the drug, describe its benefits and to explain it as a substance not causing dependency.  To me this seemed faulty and I started to pick up on some of the contradictions all around. For example his atheist believes were surrounded by historical artifacts of ancient gods, and his sexist philosophies were followed by the support of his daughter, Anna, to become the first female Psychologist and extend his own work. Finally, I started to openly enjoy myself, take photos of silly things, and converse in the museum despite the dreary ambiance. It occurred to me that Freud was patriarchal and oppressive, and these energies still floated within the walls of his office creating the suppressed and somber mood.  

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During my time in Vienna I have found myself somewhat tired and low on energy. I realize I am dealing with a lot of things in my life, besides being a nomad. I am no longer a student and am in the process of forming a new identity as well as dealing with other internal transitions. During times of change my life is full of greater uncertainly. As I work to deal through these things I find myself hopping to and from...

Bratislava, Slovakia  

 To eat some goulash 

and

Prague 

 To enjoy a weekend the Czech way

AND

All of Vienna 

 To spend some time with an inspiring Italian girl that a typical American would not normally get the chance to meet

And to find the son of my great-grandmothers baby brother who I call, cousin Herbert

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Although my journey could not be going any better, the exciting present does not always work as a remedy for the shifting soul. Critiques of the past and worries of the future present a greater weight for me than my 15 kilo pack. I have met countless unforgettable people in Europe's un-replicable cities, but now I seek isolation. I am in need of some self-revival. I am starving for a greater independent connection to the power of Life, and I can't think of a better place than this olive farm in Turkey to do it! 

Rapid Reflections

Okay okay okay! I have been falling behind on keeping you up to date on my whirlwind adventure. I am alive, and seeing something new every single day! In 13 days I was in 6 different countries. For each of these nations I could tell hours of stories recreating the experiences with speech. Although for now, if I write about each moment that deserves a description I will be missing the world around me. Therefore, I will give you a small taste of where I have been and the full meal will come when I can sit down with you and keep you at the edge of your seat.  


My Last Day in Italy

The ending of the Avidano Family Reunion was the beginning of the cow feast. I daringly ate the brain, liver, tongue, lung, and face of a poor, finely prepared, cow. This is the kind of thing you only do, with a smile on your face, when family has served you the animal parts. It doesn't matter that the family is separated by many branches on the tree and an entire ocean. Familial love knows no distance. 

My Dream-like Week in Amsterdam

The grey haze that surrounded the city the entire time I was there gave the feeling of a dream, or maybe it was finding (on purpose) an old college roommate in Amsterdam that gave it the dreamy feel. 

 Or maybe it was this local construction worker, un-phased by the flock of pigeons as he drank milk on his lunch break, in front of the I Amsterdam structure as if to say HE is the spirit of Amsterdam. 

This lone bee also gave the feeling of fantasy. 

And where else do you find an adult size jungle-gym than in a dream. Oh yea Amsterdam!

 All you can eat, Dutch sheep and goat, cheese samples, Dreamy!

If this floating crane, plucking bikes from the canal like tulips from the garden, didn't create the illusion of a chimera, I must have been actually sleeping the whole time. 

One and a Half Hours in Frankfurt 

1.5 hours outside the train station in Frankfurt, Germany is not enough time to do anything, except have a beer and bratwurst at the near-by pub. Yes it was before noon, but when else can I do as the locals do, and the locals do drink before noon.  Actually there seemed to be a group that had been there for a while before I strolled in. I was fully loaded with my pack and travel gear and the old men seemed to be fully loaded in another way. Even on the search for this pub I saw a young man well dressed drinking from a liquor bottle getting on the bus. Maybe I am making a judgment, maybe I am wrong, but my short time in the German streets was accompanied with a somber mood. Was I picking up on some cultural pain within the people? Is there some kind of inter-generational guilt laying in the land? 

On the Road Again (part 2)

During the change of seasons weather moves quickly, and so do I. Hopping, skipping, jumping, driving, flying, and training, here is where I have been...

Cinque Terre is a place that capes off of the NW Italian coast. Five Villages, perched on the edge of diving cliffs, resist the temptations of the sea and stay nested where they are. These pastel clusters of homes and touristic restaurants  are cuddled by slopping fields of typical Italian agriculture. Evergreen trees and everlasting seas create a harmony of emerald and blue that resonates with a most beautiful tone. 

As I came out of the Milano underground, I immediately lay eyes on the Duomo and my first impression of the city. 

Bergamo Alta, the old stone city a top a hill is where Stefania and her generous Mother and Sister (my temporary host family) took me out for some outstanding pizza and unreal tiramisu. 

First impressions come and go, but lasting impressions are what you carry with you. I walk away from the region of Lombardia with the warmth of a group of friends who are a joy to share a glass of wine with next to a flowing river. 

From new friends to good-old-family, next I went to the airport. Not to catch a flight, but to meet some familial faces at the arrivals gate. From New York I found Uncle Mike, Aunt Sherry, Lovely Cindy, and of course Papa Stevie. We embarked on a Piemonte pilgrimage to visit some not so distant Italian family...