As my first post I would like to explain the reasons why I started this blog so you don’t just think this is YET ANOTHER travel blog. But what can I do if travelling isn’t only my biggest passion, but it also is almost the only thing I can do that I don’t get tired of. Because when I travel I find myself.
I’m a 22 year-old Italian girl, who lives in a small town in Central Italy. Thanks to a mother who travels a lot and due to my spirit of adventure I found what makes me happy, and also what’s really mine.
My story in short: I think my first journey was at the young age of 6 months old. Rome- Cagliari (Sardinia). Probably having a mom who is a flight attendant really helps falling in love with high altitudes. I believe that thought of taxiing always spinning in our minds, or that feeling of being finally home just on a plane, comes from our DNA.
It’s nomal that when you start flying young like I did, you end up exactly like I did: with NO money and that feeling of “I must go“. Go visit, see, smell, touch or just explore. But go without coming back. Because I believe it takes a long time to feel it is time to go back. Enough time to really miss the place you come from, enough time you almost forget the colors and the scents of your place. It is when you can’t see or smell them anymore that you understand it is the time; it has come the time to go back to the placewhere you grew up, to become stronger enough to face more colors, scents and feelings brought to you from your new journey. Where you will find home. Until you have once again found that connection with your place of origin, you’ll keep moving, without stopping. To find that something, that tiny nowhere place.
Far enough you find yourself.
I honestly almost found myself. When, at the age of 16, I left alone to go face what became the most amazing experience of my entire life.
It was August, 4th 2012 when I left for the United States of America. And it was June, 6th 2013 when I caught a flight to come back.
During that year, between amazing and awful things I could see inside myself, I finally understood my place on earth. And the only thing I’m sorry about is not having understood it earlier, because I might have done something more about it.
The beauty of journeys is that you can’t have regrets about them. Because when you go but can’t see everything you wanted, you still had the opportunity and you were lucky -because it means being privileged to have the chance to go- of seeing, even a small part, but a small part more than a lot of people.
It is also for you who don’t have the opportunity that I write. For you who won’t feel the way I do, see the different colors, smell the different scents. All things that change you. It is for you that I’ll try to put in here all my emotions, hoping that it will make you feel like I do.