Exeter
The best place to start a travel diary, which can not be the airport.
Maybe once the port was more appropriate, but in our era, we need the wings to move rather than the sails.
So here I am waiting for the flight ... delivery in half an hour, and the precise moment here I detach from the ground, will start my new adventure, something I always wanted and never had done.
A journey alone.
did not matter where, I just wanted to enjoy every moment of the holiday, with my rhythm and my desires. For years I have found
sticks between my legs ... and only now I can realize my dream.
A year ago, I had an epiphany, I realized that something was under my eyes but I had never focused. Naomi asked me a
Giono "quel'è your favorite book?". I spent some minutes looking for my perfect book, then I shouted "Atlas de agostini methodical."
There is nothing to laugh, I'm serious. I spent endless hours searching for the nation's far from Lecce, with perhaps the most strange. I liked to fantasize about what I would find in those cities, chissaà shots that I could do.
My blonde, with the usual naturalness with which he says things, he replies "Oh yes of course, because you like to travel."
few seconds later I started to cry of happiness ...!
I discovered something about me that I already knew in my subconscious, but I never fully realized. That's nice.
I love to travel, to accept everything that I want to offer the world, sea and sand and I will never be enough ... if I want that my Otranto.
I like to know the why of things, not just criticize. I want to know different cultures, see and photograph the city, but I like the trots. Does that mean I ate a plate and discovered something strange again ... yes, but next time with that shit but I still eat!
The plane is a bit 'late, never mind ... I continue to write the voltage rises and more and more I get excited. It's like when you're in the front row ready for the concert of your favorite band ... a moment seems eternal, aspects excited to start jumping and singing.
My feet are hot, ready to take me around for my new journey, the finger tingles to take one thousand times, the mind is open to welcome new memories.
scalp, I do not hold back ... they called my flight, my time.
you go!
Amsterdam
I arrived!
Everything went well, I found what I needed, and are now in train to the city.
airports seem to be always in the same place. There are the same rules, the same souvenir shops selling the same shirts and caps key ... just change the name of the city.
We speak only English, and know at last is a great help, do not ever feel alone, whatever happens you can always find someone who helps you.
Now I can say I speak three languages \u200b\u200bother than Italian. English, French and English. Maybe I'm not a rope in one of these, but I can easily communicate. Yeah! Anyway ...
first impressions.
Amsterdam is precisely the ground water. The language is full of K and W and the sound is much phlegm. There are words that if you do not smoke eight barrels per day you can not do it.
not understand anything but reading it a little easier, for now I realized that it doubles when the A is stressed.
Road Central straat = = = Totaal centraal total.
I do not know the pronunciation, I'll find out later.
I arrived at the station, go around the city ... god how great this channel ... who knows what it's called.
Hours 1:35 am in the Leidseplein area, would be the center of the "movida" in Amsterdam.
From Dam square, where is full of tourists, lots of people and bikes everywhere, but at dinner time runs out quickly on the way to go to the Vondelpaark, you go through the Leidseplein, where all of a sudden life again.
Lights and places like ants. An Italian restaurant is on two. We are all, restaurant Bella Napoli, O Sole Mio, Peppino, Mimmo, Ninette, Vesuvius, the Madonna and of course never fails to Rimini. Probably none of these is run by Italians. Easier to find Pakistani and Indian cooks of Avellino.
These neon lights intertwined with the words written in English, Italian, Arabic, Hindi, Dutch. You
to a'dam but you can go anywhere in the world, just enter a room.
I felt at home ...
The square is full of people dancing, smoking, singing, and the two bulldogs in the background watching us smiling.
But that is one who plays the bass ... the foot attacked a tambourine. Swing 50s. And that couple who's dancing in front of their own around the candles in the center of the stage that ... wonder.
Click! Click! Click!
are halfway hostel Irish Aran sitting outside the pub, drink cider, Magners my favorite one (€ 8 but fuck!), Wind up the pages of my moleskine, writing makes me sick.
I'll be alone for eight days and I'm not sure how it will be this holiday. Here nobody knows me nobody knows who I am. I could be anyone, I want to be anyone.
A student visiting a wildlife photographer of a magazine or why not the son of one who has a chain of restaurants caponata takeaways in Sicily. Anyone.
Come on, let that remain today David.
little money, a camera and a dream.
be free ... free from tuttto.
... at least for a week ...
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