Greeeetings, I’m back on duty.
June, what a month. After this trip, I immediately landed in NY to go into a week long work on-site, flew to Houston for another work trip, and then came back to host my fam back in the city. I’m ready for my year of rest.
1
After a nightmare of 24+ hours of air travel, we land only to ride a bus for another two hours in the middle of the night to our hotel. The window panes on the coach are large and vast, I doze in and out of sleep to make out the villages in the dark and am almost relieved that’s all that’s revealed of them. Shadows and little pockets of hints in the nighttime, mostly reflected off the thousands of little tiny Italian cars that the streets are hugging.
2
The locals are asking to take pictures of the black kids in our group, taking out their personal phones instead of capturing their memories for them. I’d only heard of these things on the internet, what the fuckkkkk.
I find myself getting nervous when I have to interact with the locals. Grazie, bonjourno, scuzi, etc. are all fun and games until you’re face to face with the lady who’s been serving you cappuccinos all afternoon. Our tour director always starts her sentences with “allora” before telling us information. She says it the same way every time and it makes me smile the way she acts like its the first time she’s ever said it.
In Vernazza there are so many people you have to look up to catch some air, but I didn’t mind it once I sat down to eat my first and only pasta dish during the length of my stay in Italy. I should’ve savored it had I known! Something about the way they dry their laundry from their balconies is very intimate, and I couldn’t stop taking pictures of every one of them.
The kids are saying they feel like they’re in Savannah, GA or the likes of their hometowns how the highways remind them of Atlanta, or the beaches of Florida. Kinda funny that they notice this type of mundane environment in a brand new country, maybe that’s why they’re feeling homesick.
3
As beautiful as it was, it’s buried further in my memory. Maybe it’s the effects of travel weighing on me though. Just a week ago the F1 Grand Prix happened here and I can feel the luxe of all the Renaults, Ferraris, McLarens and more in the streets surrounding me.
This only adds to the camaraderie that Monaco is known to be a vacation getaway for the world’s elite. The emphasis on luxury and status almost makes it hard to enjoy the town, and the smaller things are harder to find. In a city so royal and rich, there isn’t so much to do.
4
Saint Paul de Vence: The sounds of bells fill the quiet, small hills and it’s my favorite stop on the trip thus far. The actual antithesis of Monaco, yet still speaking to this idea of luxury in a less obnoxious way. Is that worse?
Nice- The heat kicks in and there are so many people in the streets it’s hard to digest the surroundings, especially after experiencing village life. Anyways- we find a spot in the shade for a charcuterie board and salmon salad and I’m reminded that everyday French food is so average and bland, no wonder they’re so upset at American food they’re probably not used to all the salt/flavor. But we’re outside, sipping wine and people watching in silence, opposite me is someone chain smoking cigarettes, the wind blowing it in the other patron’s faces and nobody cares. There’s a level of unbothered that you can’t help but try on for yourself in these circumstances.
5
I was spit on while walking around Lloret de Mar, a town on the Costa Brava in the Catalonia region of Spain. Not in an act of hate way, but rather a spitting over a balcony and it happened to land on me type of way. Also known for its Mediterranean beaches, I won’t forget that town either way.
We go through the crowded streets of Barcelona’s city center and I’m happy as I find little corners of quiet and charm in between the physical loudness of people and also in the architecture of the city. Antoni Gaudi’s touches are few and (kinda) far between one another, but it’s worth looking once found. Amongst his buildings, the city’s architecture in general is unique in the way that it distinguishes itself apart from other cities with Haussmann-style buildings with elegant balconies.
At night we go to a flamenco show and I’m looking forward to it because I recently finished Eve Babitz’s “Black Swans” and there’s a whole 20 pages about how she’s obsessed with flamenco. It’s not at all what I was imagining. It’s far more complex, precise and driven by a beat that’s hard to follow. They clap their hands as a means of music, but it’s all at different times so it’s difficult to predict. As some of the dancers stand in the back and watch their peers dance, their eyes stay only on the feet, watching their every precise move. It’s a movement that is very coordinated but at the same time very loose and spontaneous.
The women and their shoes are fabulous. The men just looked like they were aggressively stomping, and are not half as entertaining and hot as their counterparts.
Olay, olay, olay
B-Bye
<3 Hailey