Island of Italians

July 24, 2011

We arrived to Folegandros and I was not immediately impressed. Like many islands in the Cyclades, the port was less than spectacular, revealing several boats and a lonely taverna. It’s what we discovered driving up to the Hora, the main village overlooking the sea, that confirmed why this island was such a favored destination, particularly among the Italians. Not to mention the views…

What we were surprised to discover upon reaching the Hora, other than one of the most charming villages in the Cyclades, was an Italian cafe/tourist office. Much like an oasis it greeted us with authentic cappuccino, freshly baked focaccia and many a ‘ciao’ from the neighborhood Italians who had for decades made this their summer retreat. We immediately felt at home.

Meanwhile, the locals carried on in the manner they had for years. I grew most fond of the twin brother bus drivers who provided the transportation. (There was also one taxi, just in case.)

We made our way from one fine (wild goat included) Greek dining experience to another…

We explored the traditional settlement of Ano Meria where life has not progressed in decades.

The beaches proved an ideal sanctuary, revealing turquoise waters and the right amount of shade.

Must we leave this ‘paradise found’? Yes. It was time to journey onwards to islands undiscovered…

Island of beauty

July 20, 2011

Anyone who has ever planned a wedding knows how necessary it is to take a honeymoon. Directly afterwards, if possible. Where did we decide to escape to? The Greek islands of course. Beginning with Santorini, where just 9 months earlier my Italian proposed. Naturally, we booked the same room in the same hotel in Oia. (Can you say sentimental?) And from this perfect perch atop the cliffs, overlooking the caldera, our many days of Greek honey and nights of a (full) moon, began.

After 3 days of staring at the sea, indulging in local white wine and many a Greek salad, we decided to explore the island. Something we had not done much of on our last visit. (With a view like this, is there really a need to explore?) And so we rented a car and took to the open road. One view replaced another… each more spectacular than the last.

At the end of a long winding road, paradise was found in the form of a hidden beach.

Neighboring the famous ‘Red Beach’, which certainly merits it’s name.

One evening we caught sight of the most inspiring sunset, with the sun melting into the sea.

Followed by a full moon. Soon to turn into an eclipse. Time again to stare at the sea…

We inhaled the many scenes of serenity and continued our adventures to the Island of Italians…

home sweet nyc

May 12, 2011

I have returned to New York City, a visiting local. After a long and eventful year living another life. How does it feel to walk these familiar, chaotic, energy exuding streets? To be surrounded on all sides by foreign faces and stimulation? To speak in a language of English mixed with smiles?

It feels like home. (I have long ago determined that you can have more than one.)

best in show

May 5, 2011

On a recent trip to Genoa, I was lucky enough to attend the Euroflora which takes place once every four years. Considering I am currently on the quest for wedding flowers, it was perfect timing! My Italian too was excited to indulge in this international flower festival, even more so when he saw my face light up at the sight of so many flowers, beginning with exotic orchids in every color imaginable.

My all time favorite, the classic white rose.

The delicate beauty of anemones.

My new love, the ranunculus. Elegant & simply gorgeous!

Yes, flowers do make a woman happy. Now… how to choose?

journey complete

April 30, 2011

When I first discovered Cinque Terre in 2007, after several days spent in Monterosso under the Mediterranean sun, I was ready for a hike, 12 kilometers to be exact. I took the train to Riomagiorre at the opposite end and my journey began.

I fell in love with Manarola, set so enchantingly upon the sea. (How could you not?)

I became taken with each village and it’s views. Within the Cinque Terre a new world unfolded and I found myself thinking about the lives of these people so isolated from the rest of the world. How inhaling the sky and the sea was part of their daily ritual. I continued on my path, climbing up the steep steps and down again. Corniglia soon became my vista.

When I reached Vernazza I was not only physically spent from the hours of hiking but was in need of a little time to reflect. And a glass of local wine. The sun was setting, and I joined the many stray cats lounging on the rocks for the most spectacular natural light show. (Incidentally, I had heard that the hike back to Monterosso was the toughest part of the trail.)

I was not meant to finish that hike. It wasn’t the right time. (And I’m a firm believer in timing.)

Until now. My Italian and I ventured via train to Vernazza, beneath a temperamental sky, to brave the trail I had left untraveled. The views were even more breath-taking than I had remembered.

Between intermittent rays of sun and rain with barely a soul in sight, we followed the steep 3.5 kilometer path, laughing, singing (not a talent I possess) and a little story-telling. We slowly made our way to what I consider the most beautiful panorama of all.

Home. Journey complete.

all aboard

April 22, 2011

What I love about traveling is not merely arriving to the destination but the actual movement from one place to another. The travel. While on the road for 13 months I embraced this ‘time inbetween‘, as it allowed me to reflect on the places seen and to anticipate those waiting to be discovered. Many 12 hour plane rides gave me plenty of time to muse, but it is via train, traveling over land (and perhaps under sea), that I always feel most connected to the journey. Put me on a train, and I am happy. (Even simply the Long Island Rail Road or these days, the Trenitalia.)

My most memorable train ride to date was 48 hours enroute from Lhasa, Tibet to Beijing. I could have easily flown and spent more time exploring China’s capital, but I chose the option of adventure.

With only my thoughts to accompany me, I observing as the worlds of Tibet and China converged in my midst. I was one of a handful of Westerners and shared my sleeping cabin with 2 Chinese men, a Tibetan, and a few good books. My conversations were limited to very basic English as I taught the Tibetan man to play backgammon and in turn he taught me a Tibetan game.