On a day in 1982, I had returned to Canada, after some time in England, Greece, Paris, and Amsterdam. It was the day my pictures were never developed. On that sad day and the next sad weeks, I promised myself I would return to Europe.
Well, life happens. And, only now, am I fulfilling that promise to myself, to return to Europe. But rather than schlepping broken camera gear from country to country, now there is the internet and a camera in my pocket.
On that last adventure, I had only a quick late-night dinner in Verona, on the highway to Athens, via the Magic Bus. And now, for the past 2000+ days, I have had a huge fascination for Italy.
I’m going back to lands of history. My grandmother died in Venice.
I’m not a fan of air transport and the flight from Vancouver to Amsterdam is a long one. Can one do this night flight in one’s pajamas? Then a short rest in Amsterdam and I fly to Rome.
And where is E when I am alone in Rome? You all who know me might be asking? The love of my life is tucked into our house, is still going to school and, of course, missing me, and hoping I’m not spending the retirement fund.
Thoughts of arriving in Rome, alone, have dished some jitters, but doesn’t adventure have excitement? I arrived in London on my own, how different could it be in 2020 in Rome?