In between sailing and eating and doing all the things – and blogging – I have been reading the perfect book for this trip. It takes place in two time periods, with one of the the main characters writing about the other, the heroine of the story so to speak. Her life takes her to many places which are foreign – literally and figuratively – and the plot has her adapting to strangers in strange places. And getting to know herself better in the process.
I think I understand how she feels. I’ve only been in Italy for five days but already the pattern has settled in, I’m adapting. I have my routine. My places to shop and eat, when I do what in a day, and what goes where. And how I interact with everyone around me. My fledgling Italian is becoming more useful. I love that Italians don’t mind if you try to speak l’Italiano, even though most of them speak English better than you do. And they mostly correct you with a smile when you inevitably get it wrong. (I can only imagine some of the wonderful things I’ve said by mistake 🙂 )
“Every day is like the day before, but every day there is something that to me is new, too.”
Being in a different setting allows you to be a different you. I’m eating breakfast every day. I’m using real sugar in my coffee. I’m slowly acquiring a fake English accent. I’m ignoring email for hours at a time, and then picking windows to “batch” process (something I always advise other people to do, but hardly ever actually do myself). And I’m blogging!
I’ve travelled quite a bit but usually with someone, either my wife, a girlfriend, or a colleague. Traveling alone is different. There is a lot of time to do nothing and think. Not so much while sailing – any distraction while foiling at speed will get you wet, instantly – but while “living” in the whitespace. I’ve sat on my little patio here quite a lot, just being.
But that’s being alone while alone. There’s also another aspect to this – being alone while around other people. At the yacht club I am a team of one – nominally part of the US team, but separated by age, skill, and familiarity. (They are all super friendly – but they know each other while I’m some random guy who came in from left field.) Walking down streets where everyone else is paired or grouped. Having dinner alone. Sitting in a bar alone. Giving yourself permission to be there, to fit in, to have a glass of wine and look around and peoplewatch. A friend refers to this as a weird sort of self-kindness. Which I kind of like, very much.
This is going to be a long trip – I haven’t blogged about what happens after the Worlds, but there will be a lot of stuff (!) – and I’m starting to get used to this…
Mothing Malcesine 