Il Palio di Siena

So, this morning I stumbled upon a YouTube video of Il Palio di Siena and by coincidence it is taking place TODAY in Siena (of all places!)  If you read the comments, there is much debate over the treatment of the horses and certain foreigners who do not understand the historical significance of this event. I hope by being one of these foreigners that I do not offend, but I find it such a striking and breathtaking custom.

Il Palio di Siena is a horse race that takes place twice a year.  Its origins stem from medieval times and I feel transported while watching il corteo storico, a magnificent pageant with costumes, flags and procession. The race involves jockeys riding bareback around the Piazza del Campo and often results in injury for the riders and horses. The goal of this post is not to discuss  the animal rights issue, but really to recognize and applaud something as cherished as this custom when our world has lost so much of these origins. For a country as rich in history as is the Italian tapestry, I feel they are giving us a great gift in keeping their heritage alive. 

Impatient.

Today I am frustrated. What I have not shared as of yet is that my greatest wish is to move to Italy, or barring that, anywhere in Europe. This is 100% for me and is independent of any guy or romance. My thirtieth year and the break up of my engagement has just opened my eyes to life's possibilities and I want those possibilities to start immediately.

It is easier said than done. I have looked into securing a working visa and it would only be eligible for six months with no possibility of renewal, without coming back to Canada for the months of paperwork should a company wish to sponsor me. The best opportunity is hopefully finding a company to sponsor me before I go there, but this is a challenge in itself. I work for an international firm which is supportive of a transfer when the economy improves, but this will likely be a year at the earliest.  While this is positive, when you decide upon your life's next journey, you want the journey to start right away. 

I have been trying to tap into my networks to see if anyone knows of any European companies looking for a marketing and PR professional. My work primarily involves media relations, business development, press release/white paper/presentation/speech writing and social networking and I was previously involved with advertising, sponsorships, event management, direct mail/email etc.  I have managed most of the communications function, save graphic design, and having worked for a Fortune 500 firm, there is so much I can offer.  I currently manage all public relations for our company's Canada/Michigan/Upstate NY district. 

I guess I am a little lost about where to turn. I am trying the social networking route as well as personal "offline" connections, but the task just seems so large and I lack direction. 

So, this post serves a two-fold purpose -- 1. it is my rant for a frustrating day and 2. if anyone has any suggestions about where to turn, I would be so grateful. 

Monterosso --land of the fair...

Monterosso al Mare is a town and commune in the province of La Spezia, part of the region of Liguria (northern Italy). It is one of the five villages in Cinque Terre. Read more.

Being a fair-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed girl, who no one mistakes for an Italian, I particularly like the following statement:

Historically, many of the villages on the Mediterranean were walled to protect against attacks from the sea. This area of the coast was often attacked by Muslim pirates and Vikings. Viking influence can still be seen in the occasional fair-skinned, red-headed children of the native villagers in the region.

It is good to know that my Danish and Scottish ancestry loved Italy as much as I. 

Who says 'I love you' over Skype...the joys of a long distance relationship

Long distance relationships are hard.  I think any relationship where one needs to get on a plane to see the one they care for is challenging, but make that flight 17 hours and include a 9 hour time difference and it is nearly impossible.  Still, the things one does for love.

S and I quickly found our routine.  I would wake up at 6 am for work (3 pm in Firenze) and we would facebook chat for an hour as I put on my makeup and have my morning coffee.  This quickly became my favourite part of my day and would leave a smile on my face as I faced another day at the office.  We later discovered Skype -- free online video chat -- and this brought everything to the next level. On many occasions S would be online until 3 or 4 in the morning if it was a Sunday evening for me.  We would toast one another with a glass of wine and talk about how much we missed each other. We could do this for hours without it getting old. We never turned to any questionable online "tactics", but even just seeing his movements and mannerisms was so sexy. He is the most handsome and charismatic guy I have ever met.

During this time, S played such a pivotal role in my life. Emerging from an engagement and depression, he allowed me to realize that there was more out there for me. Being thirty and recently single was not the end of the world and he made me feel like I was beautiful, exciting and desirable. It is much easier to get over a relationship when you have someone telling you how much they care for you. He would send me song clips and the most romantic emails -- even considering the language barriers. I once got a postcard with our names written in a heart. It reminded me a little of the paper valentines I would get as a ten year old girl in puppy love, but overall, it just embodied the casual and flirty nature of our relationship.

I have heard "I love you" twice in my life from a partner. First time was my former fiance and the second time was one morning over Skype. Not necessarily the way I imagined it would go, but one has to compromise on their fairy tales under such conditions. He was so cute and shy in saying so. It was certainly the first time I heard "Ti amo" and especially "Te dua" (in Kosovaro). I can't explain it, but I really do love him. I love who he is, how he makes me feel and how he makes me feel about myself.  He is an incredibly caring and special person and while he may be miles away, he is worth the extra effort to make it happen.

The Grooviest Village in Italy -- Calcata

Calcata is a small village north of Rome and takes the "hilltop town" to a new level.  It sits atop volcanic cliffs and was once condemned by the Italian government for fear that the the historic centre would collapse. The NY Times once called it the "Grooviest Village in Italy" and I call it simply stunning!

Gaeta

Gaeta, a small Italian town, is located to the south of Rome en route to Naples. It is situated on a beautiful gulf and its strategic military position and enchanting environment has made Gaeta a secure harbour since the time of the Roman Empire. The coast around the small town is called the Riviera d'Ulisse because ancient poets like Homer and Virgil wrote of its grandeur and beauty.  Beaches, coves, antiquity, charm, culture and picturesque town make Gaeta a place to explore as well as relax.  

Top 10 Attractions in Florence

Piazza della Signoria and Palazzo Vecchio -- Florence's most famous square is Piazza della Signoria, the heart of the historic center and a free open-air sculpture exhibit.

Il Duomo - Cattedrale de Santa Maria del Fiore -- Florence's most popular site is its Duomo (cathedral), the Cattedrale de Santa Maria del Fiore. The huge Gothic duomo was begun in 1296, consecrated in 1436, and holds 20,000 people.

The Baptistry -- The Baptistry of John the Baptist, from the 11th century, is one of Florence's oldest buildings. Its exterior is made of green and white marble and has three sets of amazing bronze doors 

Campinile - Bell Tower -- The Campinile, bell tower, is in Piazza del Duomo. The first story was designed by Giotto and it is commonly called Giotto's Campinile. Buy a ticket and climb the 414 stairs (no lift) for great views of the Cathedral and its dome and the city of Florence and surroundings.

Ponte Vecchio -- The Ponte Vecchio (old bridge), built in 1345, was Florence's first bridge across the Arno River and is the only surviving bridge from Florence's medieval days (others were destroyed in World War II). The Ponte Vecchio is still lined with shops selling gold and silver jewelry.

Galleria degli Uffizi -- The Galleria degli Uffizi holds the world's most important collection of Renaissance art but it's also Italy's most crowded museum. You can buy tickets ahead to avoid long lines. The Uffizi holds thousands of paintings from medieval to modern times and many antique sculptures, illuminations, and tapestries.

Galleria dell' Academia -- Florence's Galleria dell' Academia holds important paintings and sculptures from the 13th-16th centuries. Michelangelo's David, probably the most famous sculpture in the world, is in theGalleria dell' Academia as well as other sculptures by Michelangelo.

Boboli Garden and Pitti Palace -- Cross the Ponte Vecchio to the Giardino di Boboli, a huge park on a hillside in the middle of Florence behind the Pitti Palace. Here you'll find beautiful gardens and fountains and a great view of Florence from the Forte Belvedere.

Santa Croce, in Piazza Santa Croce, is the largest Franciscan church in Italy and holds the tombs of several important Florentines including Michelangelo and Dante. The vast interior contains some exceptional stained glass windows and frescoes

Shopping -- Florence has some of the finest shopping in Europe. In Florence you'll find leather goods, paper goods, and jewellry as well as nice souvenirs and art productions. Florence has a number of open air markets selling food, clothing, and antiques.

Positano...Southern Italian Coastal Charm

So, on my next Italian voyage I must make my way to Positano.  Ever since the scene in "Under the Tuscan Sun" where Diane Lane goes to visit her lover wearing a white dress billowing in the sea breeze of the rugged coastal town, I have been thinking of my own Raoul Bova.  (Actually, maybe I have one...but in Florence).  These pictures are great though!

To find out his past is to care for him even more.

So, first of all, it is worth noting that S is quite a bit younger than me.  More to follow on this subject, but this little piece of information is needed for the next post.  

February. I finally closed the door completely on a past relationship and that is when the floodgates opened to S' past.  It is not filled with skeletons -- at least not the kind you are thinking of. Rather it is filled with the kind that brings blood, tears, fear, isolation and even death. S is a survivor of a horrible atrocity. Call it what you may -- genocide or ethnic cleansing, both terms that should never enter one's realm or vocabulary.

There is so much sadness in the world. In North America we have our blinders up, concerning ourselves with what are typically rather trivial issues.  Of course this is not always the case, but looking back on my history, I don't have the same kind of tragedy, and for this I am very fortunate. However, this also brings with it a strange form of guilt.  

S is from Kosovo.  Formerly part of Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union, it has been dominated and ravished by Serbia since the end of the Cold War.  In the late 1990s, it was the sight of what is estimated to be between 20,000 and 30,000 murders at the hands of Milosevic's minions.  Oddly enough, in the article link pasted below, there is an excerpt from the NY Times published on my twentieth birthday.  As such, I know exactly what I was doing the same day that these atrocities were taking place.  I was partying.  I was enjoying being a University student, a sorority member, a recent 20-something who had everything in front of her.

At the same time that I was doing shots at the bar, S was witnessing one of the most atrocious massacres of the twentieth century. He was just a child.  From articles I have read, this is likely what guaranteed his survival, because had he been much older, he would have been of "combatant age" and likely killed.  

S shared with me what he saw and what he remembered. I cried as I listened to what were the nightmares of a child revisited and the tragic death toll his family endured.  Every aunt, uncle and grandparent were killed, with the exception of an uncle on his mother's side.  He shared with me YouTube videos of the killings and I tried to put myself in his place -- a frightened child whose only crime was being born Kosovaro.  It is not fair for a human being to have to see this and have to relive the horror for the rest of their life.

At this point, S opened up about everything. A further tragedy was his father passing away only six months earlier.  What history this man had lived in such few years.  When talking about age differences, S has lived a much more cruel life than I and this can explain why there are commonalities between us despite the gap.  He has such wisdom for his years and such insight into life. In the seven months of knowing him, he has had such an impact on who I am and is a key contributer of my becoming a better person. He means so much to me and I just want to take away the pain for him.  Sadly, it will be there forever.

http://www.gendercide.org/case_kosovo.html 

Cinque Terre...five lands, five breathtaking adventures...

Cinque Terre, the five lands, is a rugged portion of coastline on the Italian Riviera. The photos were so beautiful that I couldn't pick just one...

First female gondoliera in Venezia

Somehow my fantasy of gliding through the Venice canals involves a male gondolier who sings a baratone "o sole mio".  Still, I love that my gender has tackled another age old tradition.  

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-venice-gondolier21-2009jul21,0,5375195.story

The view from Piazza Michelangelo

Such a spectacular sight.  Whether it is noon, dusk or twilight, this view never ceases to take my breath away.  It is even better to be watching it in the arms of someone you love.  On my last day there was a wedding taking place in the pavilion behind the piazza that was truly magical.  Imagine this view on your wedding day.  Now that's Amore in Italia.

San Gimignano -- the epitome of Toscana

San Gimignano is exactly what one would imagine a medieval Tuscan town to be.  Its trademark towers can be seen from miles away and from the hilltop, you can see nothing but miles of rolling hills.  Pure heaven!

Weeks pass, feelings grow

I felt so surreal to be back. How could I have had such a life changing experience and still return to the life I have always known? It didn't seem right to me that I was not able to see S and explore these feelings we were having. 

Our communication started slowly -- an email every few days talking about friends or the holidays -- and quickly grew to be an event that happened several times a day.  We talked about how we missed each other and how excited we were to have met one another.  We talked about goals and family and my dream to move to Europe.  We were growing into a couple -- albeit one who didn't get to see each other or be with each other. I really trusted him and really started to care for him.  He is an amazingly sweet, thoughtful and caring man, so wise beyond his years and so wonderfully crazy about me.  Despite the challenges, I am so lucky.

Verona at Sunset

Verona will certainly be a future destination for me in my future Italian travels.  Gorgeous.

Three weeks of romance in Europe...then back to reality

I returned on December 18, 2008.  Not that it had been warm and balmy in Europe, but it was snowing and freezing in Vancouver.  If my flight had left Paris just a few hours later, I wouldn't have been able to land in Toronto due to a snow storm and possibly would not have been able to leave Europe.  Of course, there is no way I could have been that lucky!

Somehow I was different when I returned.  My apartment looked different, my work was different, my relations with my friends were different. I don't think they changed.  I think I changed.  Somehow I was stronger and more sure about who I was.  Actually, I was completely confused about who I was, but at least I was able to break away from the complacency and acceptance that had previously controlled me.

I didn't know what was going to happen with S, although I knew that my previous relationship -- the one of four years that had carried with it depression and heartache -- had to change.  I started to pull away from P and my relationship with S (which was growing into one of facebook, email and intermittent phone calls) became my lifeline.  He would prove to be among the greatest influencers in my life.

A Florence landmark -- Ponte Vecchio

Ponte Vecchio, the "Old Bridge" is the home of many girls' fantasies -- shiny shop windows with gold, jewels and pearls.  For this girl, it is the sight of a romantic evening with gelato and stolen kisses.

Il Duomo a Firenze

This is by far the most majestic picture I have ever seen of the Duomo in Firenze.  It is pretty easy to see why I love the city so much!

Venice

So perhaps it would help if I added the photo...

Venice...so majestic...

Venezia di Notte

Such a beautiful sight of the Grand Canal. First picture in my "Amore in Italia" Photo Gallery.

http://tinyurl.com/am4mhd

La destination prochaine...Paris

I always thought I would go to Paris with the one I loved. Turns out I did.  Or at least I went with someone who I was learning to love.  No, that does not mean that S came with me.  It simply means that I started to love the person who was inside of me.  As corny as it sounds, it took a lot time to get there -- and Paris too!

It was a grey and rainy day when the plane touched down.  After all, it was Paris in December.  Somewhat crazy that I had picked that month of all months.  I found my hotel pretty easily and it was this great place in Montmatre.  It was late afternoon, so I decided to take a stroll down to Cathedrale Sacre Coeur.  Montmatre is a beautiful part of Paris.  In Vancouver terms I would call it the Yaletown of Paris -- despite the fact that it outranks it 10:1.  Still, it has create cobblestone streets, trendy apartments, cool restaurants and, as the artists quarter, somewhat talented caricaturists.  I fell in love immediately!  

I had a great meal that night.  I actually sought out a tourist menu and found one that had french onion soup, moules (mussels) et frites and creme caramel for dessert.  There was a lounge pianist and singer and it was truly how I imagined Paris to be.  

The following days were spent wandering the streets, shopping on Les Champs Elysees, visiting the latin quarter, the gothic quarter, the catacombs.  I decided to take the "New Europe" tour and had a great time, despite the freezing temperatures.  Despite my folly in visiting Europe in December, the privilege I had was visiting all of the Christmas markets and getting to see the Champs Elysees dripping with light blue sparkling lights for miles leading up to the Arc de Triomphe.  Such a sight.

Paris was also my opportunity to reclaim something that I hadn't seen for many years -- approximately 12 to be exact.  That would be the beauty of the French language.  I wrapped myself in it in abundance.  I spoke to everyone in French and even had tourists coming up to me and asking for directions in their broken tourist French.  I felt great.  

My relationship with S continued.  We wrote each other three times a day and I told him minute details of my trip.  He told me how much he missed me and how he dreamt of me and cried for me.  He told me how sad he was the day I told him I was leaving Paris and leaving Europe.  I really felt like I had found someone who understood me and supported me.  

Creative ways to afford travel!

So, in a detour from my romantic tales, I thought I would share the most interesting article I found on the Lonely Planet blog.  It is about the creative things travelers have done to make money to fund their trips.  Top of my list is changing one's religion throughout one's travels in order to reap free room and board at various religious organizations.

I hope that the point about travel blogs funding trips (or in my case ROMANTIC travel blogs funding trips) proves to help me along the way.  Thought there might be interest in the link.

http://tinyurl.com/loxnne

Can you pinpoint the moment your life is about to change?

My time in Barcelona was amazing.  Relaxing, calming...life just took on a new pace and outlook.  Instead of whizzing through the monuments and tourist traps, I spent my time wandering the streets, breathing the ocean air, imagining the Olympiad and dreaming about what my life will look like.  For so long I had been stagnant and holding on to a dream and a promise that was broken.  

In Barcelona I also met my new friend Sophie.  A Parisienne, Sophie shared her love stories with me and I with her.  Whereas I had always played it safe, she played it risky.  She had been dating a married man fifteen years her senior and had hoped that it would turn into love. She had recently found out that her dream was never going to come true. Her and I became great friends though and it was nice to have someone to share all of the emotions that had been rising within.

During this time, S was also sharing his emotions with me.  We were debating whether or not I would come back to Firenze.  Actually, I was debating...he was trying to convince me.  He was so lovely -- telling me how he was dreaming of me, thinking of me, wanting me. I felt like we shared so much together in such a short time.  

I had to make the decision, however, that I was not going to go back.  It was a terribly hard decision to make, but I had unfinished business in Vancouver and I wanted to have a fresh start to my new life.  I wasn't able to let S go though and we continued our romance through the wonders of Facebook chat.  Not the traditional romance, but hey...it was almost 2009!

Cut your losses, go to Barcelona.

So, after reaching my holiday low, I decided to make the trip to Barcelona a day early.  I took the bus and felt a relief to be out of Valencia.  So also began my desire to write...about my past, about my present, about my feelings, about my doubts...and the five hour bus ride flew by.  I wrote about my feelings for S and how he has helped me realize that I was worth more than what I had been receiving in recent years.  He helped me realize that I am desirable, regardless of being 20 or 30, and that I would be okay if I was on my own.  

I arrived in Barcelona with a refreshed spirit and excitement.  I found my hostel, right next to the old cathedral in the Gothic quarter.  It was picturesque and the Christmas markets were enchanting.  The weather was also warm and sunny.  So, became my mood.  It is amazing the difference a day makes.

My emails with S became more frequent and revealing.  He was so sweet and caring.  He made me feel so special.  It started becoming more clear to me that this was a path I had to follow.

And so it all began...

Facebook. Toted as one of the world's best creations.  Who knew that a simple "wall post" could be the start of something so much more.  I was so sad that night in Valencia.  I was thinking of the night I had with S a couple of evenings prior and was longing to be back in Firenze.  So, I wrote on his wall.  It was something simple -- "S, I am so sad here in Valencia, I miss Firenze" -- that started it all.  He wrote back that he missed me too, and so began our relationship.

Sad in Valencia

I hadn't planned on going to Valencia.  Venice was flooded and my best friend raved about this small, Spanish town as her favourite destination -- somewhere she could see herself living.  I was so excited to go (so I thought).  

I arrived in Valencia around 10pm and headed straight to the hostel.  I liked the town at first -- it was very inviting and really warm for a December night.  I checked into a very large, very institutional hostel and met my Polish roommates -- they were just getting ready for a night on the town.  Despite it being a Sunday, it was a holiday weekend and everyone was heading out around midnight.  I was exhausted and headed straight to bed.

I woke up early on Monday and was excited for my first day in this new town.  Delighted, I found a Starbucks and learned that Grande Nonfat Latte is the same in every language. (Apparently the coffee chain doesn't have Italian locations for fear that their brand would be seen as inferior). Fortunately, I emerged from my withdrawal. Sadly, this was the best part of my day.

There wasn't a lot to see in Valencia.  A beach town, I am sure it is fantastic during the summer, although it just lacked any kind of sparkle as a European town in the winter.  I saw the historic quarter in all of three hours and sat myself down on a bench and realized just how overwhelmed with sadness I felt.  I really had a sense of losing a piece of myself in Florence and was not yet ready to move on.  

I found my way back to the hostel around 2pm and then the rains started.  Now, I am a born and raised Vancouverite.  I can do rain.  I cannot do crazy Spanish typhoons.  Really, the rain put Vancouver to shame (pardon the rhyme).  There was nothing to do but stay in.  The other residents of the hostel -- most of them Spanish and in town to party for the long weekend -- were in small groups and uninterested in meeting new people.  I met one guy -- a 45 year old man from Mauritius named Norbert who adopted me and tried to make me feel better. If I have not already mentioned, by this point I was crying and was just so lonely and lost.  I was wondering how I had come to find myself alone and in Europe.  I fed into my emotions -- in some ways, the rain coming down justified my mood and my tears, so I gave into it.  I spent a lot of time online that day -- and so began my communications with S.

The next morning and a departure

I awoke the next morning in pure happiness. Yes, I had not slept much the night before, but it didn't matter.  I was happy -- well, until I realized that I had to leave S that day.  I made my way into the living room and he was making breakfast in the kitchen.  I walked in and kissed him --so natural; like we were a married couple sharing a kiss over eggs and toast.  As others awoke and joined us, we would sneak kisses when others weren't looking and were just enjoying being playful with one another.  When others left, we just sat on the couch, letting the realization of our soon-to-be separation sink in.  In a matter of hours we would be apart.  We lay there and kissed and were just happy in each other's company.  

Francis was accompanying me to Pisa where we would see the sites before my evening flight.  As soon as I was on the train I knew I had left something special behind in Firenze.  I was really sad to have left him and felt a rush of emotions all day.  As I boarded the plane and saw Italy get smaller and smaller in the distance, I knew I would soon have to return.  The question was when.

Titanic (Tee-ta-nique)

As I was waiting for S to return, I romanticized our next encounter -- he would take me for a night out in Firenze, kiss me on the ponte vecchio and walk hand in hand through the streets.  Unfortunately, Francis, an Australian guest was there and S came back with his brother.  I sat on the couch in the middle of S and his brother -- who had been hitting on me the night before. The four of us watched Teetanique, otherwise known as Titanic -- a dubbed-over Italian film I can actually understand.  S' brother soon left and somehow we found ourselves extra cozy on the couch; so much so that Francis commented on how friendly we looked.  We shared a blanket and inconspicuously held hands.  It was all very teenage of us.  We were just waiting for Francis to leave.  She was on the computer and S would steal kisses on my neck. 

Francis finally stepped out of the room for a shower.  S and I were like a magnet to each other -- kissing and just giving in to the tension that had been building for the past few hours.  It was wonderful.  I didn't think of his age, I didn't think of my life at home, I just gave into everything I was feeling at that moment in time.  It was such a long time coming.

At one point Francis came into the room.  You would have thought that we were 16 and my mom just caught us making out.  We were instantly on other sides of the couch, an obvious move that prompted Francis to realize that we had been kissing.  The guilty looks on our faces didn't help much either.  We were caught.  Still, Francis excused herself graciously and we were left -- the two teenagers on the couch.  The next six hours -- almost entirely G rated -- were so wonderful and if I had let myself, things would certainly have gotten carried away.

Despite pleas to join him in the bedroom, I made my way back to my room and bed.  Francis was still awake and to continue my teenaged evening, we talked and giggled about what my night had entailed.  After all, the next morning I would be leaving.

When in Firenze...

I fell in love with Firenze.  I likened Rome to Toronto and Firenze to Vancouver.  It was just calmer, more refined, more relaxed.  I immediately knew it was a home to me.  The flirtation with S started immediately.  He was so cute and I just figured that was how he acted with all the girls.  He was always flirtatious and playful, but I dismissed it as such.  One night he invited his two brothers over and we had a dance party -- filled with wine and Chris Brown music -- in the livingroom.  S grabbed me, danced with me and tried to kiss me -- I resisted of course..Still, I had found an amazing connection and friendship with him and knew I had found something special. 

The next day was my relax day.  S and I watched tv until around noon and I laid low, figuring out my trip.  I also decided to do laundry -- in my black dress and boots since everything else was in the wash.  He made quite the to-do about my outfit and it made me feel so special.

Coming back from the laundromat, S and I were alone in the B&B.  I was making dinner and he was watching me.  At this point he had been trying to kiss me for a couple of days.  I finally gave in -- we shared the most delicious kiss in the kitchen; small but perfect.  He had to go home for dinner but I was on cloud nine -- emailing friends, drinking wine and just getting comfortable in my skin.  Really I was waiting for S to come back as he had promised.

When in Rome...

Upon landing in Rome, I immediately started to find the spark within myself that had been missing for so long. Despite the November night air and rain, I immediately headed over to the Vatican to just drink it all in.  I had dreamed of going to Italy for a dozen or more years and was in absolute awe of my surroundings.  I found a quaint (yet very overpriced -- even for Italy standards) pizzeria and had the most charming waiter.  Maybe he is programed to give "extra value" service, but he was so sweet and lovely to me.  I found it.  It didn't take long, but I found it.  The spark inside that had been extinguished for so many years.  It was there all the time and I just needed to feed the flame to have it grow inside of me.  

I had a few other fabulous flirtations and one of the most noteworthy came in St. Paul's Cathedral where one of the Swiss Guards hit on me during a Sunday night mass. He offered to give me a private tour of the Duomo -- code word for making out in the bell tower.  So sweet, but not interested.

I moved on to Firenze and found the most homey and comfortable bed and breakfast / hostel in Italy.  The manager, a very handsome and young guy named Salih greeted me and the two Canadian girls from Rome that I had recruited to come with me to Firenze.  One of the girls was giving Salih a very hard time and I was mortified.  Still, the three of us headed out into Firenze for what would become a life changing trip.

It started with a trip to Europe...

A whole explanation for how my engagement fell apart is a post for another time, another place.  Let's just say that I had a very rough couple of years. These years were filled with mental abuse, fear, lost dreams and an ensuing depression.  The trip to Italy was supposed to be a honeymoon that had been postponed time and time again.  In some ways, it is funny.  It was my ex-fiance (still boyfriend at the time) who encouraged me to go to Europe by myself. That was 12 days before the scheduled flight.  I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I had the strength to fight my fears about being alone -- especially alone in the most romantic countries in the world. 

It was a Friday when he suggested to make the trip. I immediately dismissed it.  However, Saturday morning I sat up straight in bed at six in the morning and knew that it was something I had to do.  I got to planning. By the end of the day I had my trip mapped out. I had hostels booked and cheap flights planned. (Of note...I also got over my snobbery of staying in a hostel!)  

The days leading up to the trip were hard. I would put on a brave face at work and would come home and be a wreck. I was so scared. I was so scared of being alone and not in control of the situation. But of course I had to go!  

November 27, 2008 was the start of my new life. It was the start of my regaining my independence and becoming the person -- the woman -- I once was. In fact, I became a better version of that woman.  

One lost phone, two new friends and infinite insight

Yesterday was a tough day. I woke up and needed some positive reinforcement that I was loved and that my worldly plans to possibly move to Italy were justified. Unfortunately, my efforts to will S to say these things to me were unsuccessful. On Facebook chat I tried to get him to say that he misses me the most, but he kept insisting that he missed someone more than me. I wrongly took this as a sign that he didn’t care about me. After numerous times of him saying that there is someone else and how can I not understand, I got it -- he misses his father. On top of everything else that has happened in his life (to be discussed later), his father passed away from cancer a year ago. I felt like I had been so selfish to have been bringing my insecurities into the conversation.

Despite this, I had one of the mini breakdowns that I am so famous for.  Historically (that means up until this year), I have been a planner.  I have planned my life -- education, career, boyfriend, husband, babies -- in that order. While not that original, I prescribed to that plan and took only calculated risks, if any risks at all.  My new found sense of uncertainty, while exciting at times, can also reap havoc on my sense of self.  So, I had a meltdown.  I cried. More than anything I think my tears were tears of fear. I have never not known what I am going to do with my life and I have just felt so lost lately. After having a pity party for myself, my best friend called and convinced me to go for a walk. Her best advice was to not consider this a move forever, but rather a move for one year. That way it isn’t so absolute, final and anxiety ridden. That, along with some soothing words on the age old fear of getting older put my nerves at ease.  It was a beautiful day -- sunny and hot with crystal water that sparkled. I felt calm and at ease.  

On my walk home I went to look at the time on my phone. But, there was no phone. I made may way to my office where I would be able to call it, and the nicest lady answered.  Her and her husband would be at the Boathouse in English Bay for a drink and I could join them to retrieve it.   Well, I made two new friends that night.

They asked me to stay for a drink and we started discussing the most private and confidential of matters -- at least for someone you have just met. Turns out they were married at 19, raised their 5 kids in Calgary, moved them to Saudi Arabia for ten years and then after the kids went to Universities around the world, they moved to Mexico. When in a previous blog post I mentioned that I am trying to find influencers in my life, I think these two kindred spirits were sent to me just for this reason. They expressed such enthusiasm and support for my idea to move overseas. We discussed concepts of love, marriage and career and identified what is important in life. I admire them so greatly and on top of everything else, they are so young for their age. I think that the variety and spice in their lives have kept them this way. They also prove that adventure and children can go hand in hand. Who knew that losing a phone and having a conversation over two mojitos would possibly change my life. I must continue to amass these influencers. They will help me extract those traits buried inside that will become my future. I can’t wait!

To live an extraordinary life you must take extraordinary risks.

One thing that will become apparent in this blog is that I have not had a lot of influencers in my life who would encourage me to take risks.  In fact, I have searched for stability for thirty years. Born to a single mother who struggled with money, although from a wonderful and hard working family, my obsession has been to create stability and security for myself as an adult. I thought that I had accomplished this. I had found a good career, a boyfriend turned fiance, a purchased condo and a future filled with marriage, babies and material things. After all, that is what everyone aspires to, isn't it? What happens though when one of these building blocks crumble? What happens when one after another, the blocks come falling down around me? Faster and harder I would fall. I became someone completely unrecognizable. At the time the demise was somewhat gradual.  It took coming out of what I now know to be a depression to realize how far I had fallen. I had achieved the exact opposite of the stable and secure life I craved. 

While I love my friends and respect them for who they are, they can't offer me the risk that I am now trying to embrace. The ones with the babies now have a life that they cannot trade in. While I have envied them for a long time, I am realizing that there is more life to live for me before I become a mother. The single friends are enjoying being single in the great city of Vancouver but have not taken that "extraordinary risk" that is so fascinating to me right now.  So, I am seeking out those influencers who can help me turn my life "extraordinary".  An Aussie friend I met in my Spain travels has filled this void. While not overly focused on career, he recently spent half a year in Europe.  Now at home and saving money, he will come to Vancouver in September for ski season and will proceed to Africa for a year come next spring. His attitude is that when he is eighty he will look back on his life and assess if it was worth living. By taking these adventures, he is creating the memories that will warm his heart and his mind in the years ahead. The quote "To live an extraordinary life you must take extraordinary risks" is therefore his quote, his genius. I don't know if he yet realizes how much impact he is having on my life, but I think I will be owing him much gratitude. He is a wonderful friend, traveller and mentor.  I hope to learn from his teachings.

Where to start...

Logically one would start at the beginning, but I don't know if I am ready to delve into the past just yet. It has been a tough couple of years. Present time I am finally happy; a little confused, but happy. This blog will hopefully offer its readers a love story of epic proportions. More realistically, it will chronicle the life of an ordinary Canadian girl who finds herself in a struggle with society and her inner expectations. She had been fighting a losing battle for a long time. Her thirtieth year has been an awakening.

This blog will discuss love, career, friendship, fear, belonging -- or lack thereof, adventure, and most importantly, life. Mine is a life worth living. It has taken me a long time to realize this, but life is worth living. Life. Is. Worth. Living. After much heartache I find myself in the middle of a wonderful adventure. It is an adventure of love; an adventure of finding oneself; and an adventure of not succumbing to the pressures of marriage and children in attempts to fit in.  

For all those who are wondering, yes, there will be "amore in italia". Yes there is a guy who awaits me there; a guy who surprises me and excites me and warms me all in one. A guy who I would never have met if I didn't open my mind and heart to the possibilities of life.  A guy who might change my life forever.