The homecoming
Coming home is indeed sweet. After a bout of homesickness in the last few days of my trip, I was ready to fly the dreaded 24 hour journey back to Wellington and see my family, cats, colleagues and friends.
I arrived home to a messy, overfilled house and cats who had missed me, and their routine. The kids came over a few hours later and it was back to busy life.
This last post has been difficult to write because I have been getting straight back into everyday life, at work and at home, sorting out some logistics, and procrastinating also. I’ve needed some space from the trip to mull and reflect and think about all the threads from my journey. They fall into categories, which I will address, then wrap up with a final, more philosophical conclusion in my next post. Which I promise won’t take so long!
Transport
Loved the trains and how well they connected me to other cities. The sprints to the station with Phillippa were fun and memorable too! In Madrid, the metro was underground and that was amazing. In Italy, above ground, and the best mode for getting across the country as a tourist. In Holland I was amazed at how quickly I could get between cities and how accessible the stations were.
Italy had some interesting stuff going on. Rome’s narrow, cobbled streets meant only small cars could be driven there, and only taxis and Uber drivers were allowed in the city (perhaps at certain times of the day – there were lots of cars parked in the narrow streets, sometimes the little ones were sideways!). I enjoyed finding an old 1992 Fiat Panda almost identical to my first car, only a different shade of pastel blue.
In Venice, there are no wheeled vehicles at all. The only wheels I saw were on a child’s scooter and on a two-wheel trolley that was delivering goods to a restaurant. Everyone goes by foot. A few go by boat. The gondolas are a bit of a tourist cliché, and they cost way too much. In Florence, the Moped rules. There are rows of them everywhere. In Holland, the boats were less beautiful than Venice, and there was a mix of cars, bicycles, scooters and trucks. The canals and bridges in both Venice and Holland have dictated the need for an interesting transport system that must be pretty unique in the world.
Planes are still cool, I will never get tired of taking off and feeling that acceleration. Looking out the window at the world below is amazing. A380s are pretty wild, 10 seats across, I find it incredible that something so huge can fly in the sky. But some of the passengers are annoying, not rude, but they make it really obvious that we are confined to a small and seated space for hours on end, it’s unnatural. There is always someone who wants to mess with the overhead lockers. They will choose the aisle seats especially for this reason. They can’t sit down, or still. They must be busy moving things from bag to seat to locker to under the chair, etc. I preferred the zombies.
In Dubai, cars rule. I was very lucky to have Phillippa pick me up and drive me around. The roads are massive, 7 or 8 lanes wide. The cars are massive too. She says new roads pop up all the time, almost overnight. It’s most definitely a city built on oil. It’s hard to imagine how a city like Rome or Venice could ever transform in that way, and of course, their narrow streets and pathways are a huge part of their charm.
Accommodation
I was totally spoiled. I stayed with Tara and Nick in their fabulous apartment in downtown Madrid. It had been decorated by a very stylish designer. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. And I had a suite all to myself, complete with writing desk and enclosed balconette looking out onto the street.
Of course, it’s easier for two. When travelling solo, I am more than happy with four stars, or it would very quickly gobble up the travel budget!
Food
I loved the food in Italy, from the moment I stepped off the plane. It’s probably my favourite cuisine and was amazing to have it all available at once. Drooling just thinking about it.
I was less enamoured with Spanish food, mainly because it is deep fried but I enjoyed some delicious tapas with Tara, Nick and Georgia at a dark piano bar when we went out one night.
Loved the Dutch food, all the familiar things from childhood, the sliced meats, pickles, potato salads, even the tinned vegetables. Ate too many droppies and decided to leave them behind but really regret that as we can’t get those easily here. It was like opening Oma and Opa’s pantry again and finding an old, probably forgotten Tupperware container filled with delicious mixes from the Dutch Shop, dried out and gone hard. I thoroughly enjoyed buying some thin slices of cumin seed cheese from a traditional cheese shop in Leiden, then buying some French bread and eating them together while walking along the canals on a cold and drizzly morning among the daffodils.
Food shared with friends is the best. Phillippa’s family ordered some Arabian food for dinner on my first night in Dubai. Despite it arriving a little cold, it was so good to observe her children devouring their favourite things and talking about their memories of eating it with their loved ones, and putting some aside for their dad who was working late. Tara made a beautiful Japanese noodle dish when I arrived and Nick made me a chicken burger – I only managed to eat half of it but it was delicious and so nice to eat food someone else had made for me. The meals I shared with my friends were better than the ones I ate alone – that said, the wait staff at restaurants in Holland were super friendly and that definitely added to my experience. And I’m so glad I moved to the table with Karel and friends at Spirit in Rotterdam, conversed, connected and learnt some culture and history. That’s something I plan to do more regularly back home.
· Best pastry – cinnamon and cardamom scrolls and croissants – found in Madrid and Rotterdam.
· Best meal – steak lunch with Phillippa – not just because of the food, but the company and conversation, and the cute waiter.
· Best food experience – seafood with Katherine and Tara at the market. I was out of my comfort zone and ate goose barnacles… plus, Kaff’s excitement was electric!
· Best street food – pork sandwich in Florence, shared with Phillippa.
[I don't do food photos]
Tourism
As expected, Rome, Florence and Venice were overrun with tourists. It had initially put me off wanting to go to Rome, but I am glad I did. The art galleries and cathedrals seem like a cliched and overproduced tourism experience, but doing it at least once in my lifetime is not something I’ll regret. I loved it.
When I planned my travel, I didn’t plan to go to places that felt like home – New Zealand is a young country and has nothing ancient.
I wanted all the ancient ruins, art that spans back centuries. Culture and food that has so far been only a rumour, or experienced vicariously through friends or restaurants.
Mending my heart
There’s nothing quite like a big city to put a little heartbreak into perspective. Especially when it is on the other side of the world.
I left Wellington in circumstances I hadn’t predicted. The ending of a relationship. We had entangled our lives, living together, but he was going through some tough times and we reluctantly called it a day. In a few short weeks we had gone from wanting to grow old together, to parting forever in the saddest of ways. It felt like a death, or a near miss, but I had to keep moving forward with my travel plans. I had been left with some of his stuff to deal with. It meant that by departure day, despite selling some items, my house was overfilled with furniture, books and kitchen items, and three cats to make arrangements for at the last minute.
I had planned to travel solo, and had booked just three flights to form the backbone of my trip. Flexibility is important to me. I found arriving in Madrid to be a great circuit breaker with its breathtaking scale and majesty. I could breathe again, knowing I’d be alright and that there was nothing much I could do about matters back home. The time difference was a great help, despite the jet lag. I’ll admit that night times were hard and I didn’t sleep well, mulling on the details of the break up and where our relationship had gone wrong.
But I also felt free. I was just ‘I’ again. Having the time without responsibilities was exactly what I needed to reset and adjust my expectations for my future. There were many walks around the city and parks in Madrid. Chats with Tara in the evenings. A different kind of busyness with Phillippa in Italy. Solo time in the Netherlands. All together it provided a positive space for me with new sights and smells and things completely unlinked to my prior life back home. It felt like the right thing to be doing.
Until it didn’t – in Rotterdam, when the weariness and loneliness set in. It was always going to and I am, on reflection, glad that I was forced to have those days to myself to deal with that stage of grief. I also thought a lot about other relationship endings, other people who had come and gone, important and not so important. I considered when to mend and when to let go. What was possible on the horizon.
I knew when I returned home that I would invest in those important people who mattered, and do things I had been unable to do while in that relationship, things that are just for me.
The comedown
Coming home left me feeling a little low, glum, and for a few weeks I felt myself drifting from hour to hour, not thinking further ahead than a couple of days. It was nice to have the comforts of home. I felt relieved to fall so easily back into my old life, but it was different. It was the first time I had lived in this location and been single. Walks and talks with mum helped reset the reality. Cooking my own meals really helped! And the scenery, the serenity, the hope in the air around Wellington’s waterfront sealed the deal. I was home, happily, and had quelled my desires for living in Europe. For now, anyway.
Check out some of the evenings in my neighbourhood - prettier than most places in the world.
Travelling with old friends
I’ve known Phillippa and Katherine for over 30 years, and Tara for 25. Travelling to meet them, travelling with them, has been an absolute privilege and joy. I’ve waited many years to do this trip, have talked about it often. It had not been possible in previous years for financial and family reasons. I had different priorities I suppose.
My friends haven’t changed in all those years. I still see their teenaged faces. I don’t see their signs of ageing (perhaps because they still look exactly the same to me). Well, they have grown into themselves. Their personalities have remained constant. I know that each of them has lived through hard times and recovered or regained their strengths and vibrancy. I am fortunate to have stayed in touch with them so long from so far away. It made me think there must be something about me, too, that appeals.
Each of them is bright and full of life. Perhaps I was looking for that in them, perhaps they too had caught the travel bug and felt the zest that I was feeling from being together in such a different set of circumstances. They have each travelled home to New Zealand on occasion and I have always tried to see them when they do. This time, I was in their neck of the woods. They were grateful for that, as I was.
Friendship should not be taken for granted. One striking memory is from when I was dining alone in Leiden. I sat next to a table of women who looked to be in their 60s or 70s, and they looked great. They were all dressed up and talking like old friends. I leaned over and offered to take their photograph. They were so delighted and asked how I knew to ask. I replied, “I’m a woman”, and they got it immediately and laughed.
How did I know? Their smiling, wrinkled faces and open hand gestures portrayed that feeling of glee, familiarity, connection, and humour that you earn from keeping friendships going over the decades, through thick and thin, raising families, helping each other through hard times, celebrating the good times. But in the end, it’s just about celebrating the years together and that’s a very cool thing.
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