The love for moving around the world is not a choice, but a necessity to satisfy one’s fate. The traveller just has to move, otherwise he’d feel exceedingly unhappy. Simple as that. To me life spent in the same place is worse than just a wasted chance, but a neglected duty that our own judgement, the earthly and practical version of the catholic one, will condemn severely. Because travelling means to learn and understand with one’s own eyes, without the foggy shades we borrow from sources that become everyday less reliable.
Among the many beautiful words about restlessness and nomadic life, those chanting that ‘travelling is living square’ deserve a special mention. If we consider a step along the path as just a moment bewteen memories and dreams, we just admit that collecting memories is the marrow a real wanderer aspires to suck. This site is the excuse of a chaotic mind to collect those memories before they vanish under the power of time, age and fresher emotions. Writing means probably something different to each writer. To me it means to order memories and learn their lessons. Images, flavours, sounds and words would not keep for long and teach me even less if just left scattered around like pieces of a puzzle on a table. The answer to the question whether these work on the net should interest someone else is therefore pointless. I like to do it this way, and guests from my past are welcome to add their own and get mad at me for the way I remember them.
The sceptic might notice that plenty of brilliant and philosophical minds can achieve great heights by just sitting still in a couch, and plenty of happy bipeds deserve a mention in their own and other people’s history without changing address even once. In the words of Bouvier, ‘Travelling provides occasions for shaking oneself up but not, as people believe, freedom. Indeed it involves a kind of reduction. Deprived of one’s customary setting, the routine striped away like a wrapping paper, the traveller finds himself reduced to more modest proportion, but also more open to curiosity, intuition and love at first sight’. The nomad just has a different sensitivity to what surrounds him. Naked and undefended by his own world, slowly structured in a lifetime of social entanglements, the traveller is like a ship at sea, diminished to the humbler scale that a wider reality implicitly imposes. This does not mean crushed or adrift. The sea might as well be another planet for what we are concerned, and our relations to it will be always similar to those we could have with an alien. The same very often happens while travelling, on meeting other cultures or heritage we just would not care to share. But the sea teaches and injects in our soul an uncommon sensitivity to what is around us and help us getting closer to it. The same happens when we travel, our senses just wake up and let us live more intensely. Open to curiosity, intuition and love at first sight. Ages of Discovery Channel cannot beat an hour conversation with any man or woman coming from another country, a night spent alone in a forest, a crossing at sea, a dish of sushi in Japan or the hug of a stranger.
Go and live. With your own senses.
This website is for anybody’s inspiration. Mine included.