Sunday, June 21, 2009

Epilogue

When I think about my travels, the places I went, the faces I met, the experiences I had, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the events, and the universe, shaping my journey into what it was. To put it simply, I had the TIME OF MY LIFE. It was absolutely the best, and so much more I could have ever hoped for. Without reservations was definitely the way to go.

Everyday, even when things did not go so well (ahem, Italy), I knew events and situations were happening just as they should, everything was coming together to shape my path, my travels and my journey.

For what is a journey really, but a path way to another place in life...a new city, a new home, a new plan, a new face...it all leads to something new. It leads us to finding more of ourselves, and in that way keeps life interesting. For when we are learning - about others and about ourselves -life has a little more passion to it, life becomes more exciting...and as quoted in the Alchemist "its the hope of a dream come true that makes life interesting". I think Senor Coehlo is right.

Back in New York City, several weeks after returning, I feel that I am on another journey, finding that path that leads back to where I want to be. I don't have to say it. It starts with an "S". And I can't wait to to be there. But, I do know its more important to be "here" because if I am not, I will miss out on all the fantastical journeys, conversations and moments between "here" and "there".

I realize now that it doesn't take a plane ticket, or a three month sabbatical to have a journey. Each day, each minute, each second can be a journey if you give into exploration, choose to look at something new, try something you have never done before, and simply 'be' a little different than you've known. A journey starts in the soul, and if you're like me, you believe that it has no end. For when you follow a path to its end, it leads you to another path, and another, and another... Find that path, my friends, and keep walking, keep going, and don't ever, ever stop.

The life you want is always out there. I believe the universe doesn't allow us to believe in things that don't exist. If you can dream it, it will be. You just have to believe, and never settle for less than you want. Life will test you, it will throw you crooks and difficulties and trials, but hold onto what you want, don't for a second think you can't have it. The only things we can't have in this life are the things we deny ourselves, and life is simply too short to live that way.

My journey wouldn't have been what it was without those who loved and supported me, and for that, I want to say thank you.

To my family, thank you for allowing me this time I needed for me. And to Ramsey specifically - I promise to be a bit more of an aunt than I have recently --but I do have good stories to tell you when your mom isn't around!

To my friends, thank you for your undying support and love as I did what I needed to do. Thank you for being there for me, for forgiving the 'early morning wake-up calls' when I would forget about the time difference, and for the advice you offered when I hit a moment of indecision... to my girlfriends, the advice to buy the flamenco dress and stay for Feria was YOUR BEST ADVICE EVER!

To my new friends, especially Javi, Jose, Miguel, Nacho and Saber, your kindness and friendship touched my life in more ways that you will know. The moments I shared with you were the happiest I knew in my travels and I thank you for allowing me in your life, your homes, and for sharing my adventure with me.

To Eline, how can I thank you for being all that you are? Your story shaped my story, your journey shaped my journey, and your friendship has without a doubt shaped my life. Who knew that our chance meeting in 2006 would lead to so many 4AM conversations in Spain? To the best Fiestas de Primavera? You are the best girlfriend a girl could ever hope for, and I feel so blessed to have a friend like you. Thank you for being you.

To Italy, thank you for the trials that toughened me up. Thank you for sharing your beautiful country with me. Thank you for the alone time that allowed me to focus on me, and make me a stronger version of myself.

And to Spain, thank you for your sunshine that warmed my life and melted the ice off the version of myself I initially presented you with. Thank you for the beautiful people you presented me with that made my travels the sweetest they possibly could have been. Thank you for allowing me to comb your streets and beaches in search of myself, in search of life, and in search of love. You didn't disappoint.

Until the curtain opens on the next scene in 'My Citrus-Scented Life', I am out. Thank you to all who read along and shared my journey with me.

Lots of love to all, wherever you or I maybe,
Paige (del Mundo)

Final Scene from My Citrus-Scented Life

The next morning things are different than they have been every other morning. I get up at 10AM, and Saber has already left to pick up items for his shop. I don't go for a run. I pack and clean up. Then shower, and then go looking for a final cup of cafe con leche at Jonata's.

Its almost 11:15AM, and Jonata's is not open. Strange. I go to Saber's shop, and its not open as well. Antonio's shop across the street is closed as is Jesus's when I wander down the street. Where is everybody?

I needed to leave at 2PM for my flight, so I had time.

I return to the house to make sure all I have to do is grab my bag and jet when the taxi arrives.

And as I exit the apartment again, Jonata is right behind me going to open the shop. He tells me "10 minutes" and I go around to see Saber just as he is pulling up on his bike, loaded down with goods for the shop.

I help him unload and then head to Jonata's for a coffee and a bite to eat before my flight. I write a little, but more or less go through a mental checklist to make sure I have not forgotten anything.

Saber apprears around the corner, and reminds me to make a copy of my photos and to burn him my music mixes. I tell him it won't take long and to wait, and 5 minutes laters he heads back to the shop with two pendrives. One with music. One with photos.

I just sit, taking it all in, and I am glad to have this hour to myself to mentally prepare for my journey back. I feel strong, yet exhausted from living life so intensely. I feel honest, and I feel good. The mental chaos I once knew has gone away, leaving me clear headed, calm and happy.

The time is now 1:30PM and I need to head to Saber's shop to make sure he has arranged a taxi, and to tell him goodbye. I head up the street and around the corner and at the entrance to his shop I couldn't help but getting a little choked up. Seeing his crazy hair in the mirror at the store's entrance desperately trying to figure out something on his computer. When he sees me, he's like "hey, this music won't play!"

I round the desk, as the lump builds in my throat, and become very intent on getting the music to play on his machine. It doesn't take long, and a minute later Madeline Peyroux's "You're Gonna Make me Miss You When You Go" is blaring in the shop. Its a random selection, but it could not have been more perfect.

Saber sees the tears in my eyes and I think of all the things I have done that have shocked him, this shocked him the most.

"Hey, you don't cry! You're a tough girl remember?"

He gives me the biggest hug, kisses my forehead and tells me to go wash my face and he will call a cab.

When I return freshfaced, but wearing sunglasses, just in case. He tells me to go tell Jonata goodbye, and I tell him I can't. I can only do one goodbye, and I saved it for him. He shakes his head again, just as the cab pulls up out front.

My bags go in the back, the door opens and I start to get in, and Saber grabs my arm and say in his crazy accent. "When you get to New York, you call me whenever you need anything. Your computer breaks, you call me. Your phone is stolen, you call me (I wasn't sure how that was going to work, but okay). You are sad, you call me. I am good at dealing with your problems, and it was a pleasure dealing with your problems here. You'll come back, okay?"

Yes, Saber, I will be back. Most definitely, I will be back.

And with that, the cab pulled away, rambling down the cobbled streets, past the store fronts and cafes that had come to feel like my home. Into the grand avenue and heading to the airport.

Time is a Tickin'


When Nacho pulled up on his motorbike around 8PM he finds me with my head in my hands thinking about tomorrow's flight. Do I have everything I need? Did I leave anything at Miguel's? Saber's? Where is my passport? Etc. Etc.

I leave in less than 24 hours. Its nuts.

Saber and Salima come around the corner, and join us at the same table I have set at everyday for the past two weeks. We order drinks, and Salima starts talkng about modeling in New York. Salima is the the girl from a few days ago with the crazy marriage situation, so while I support anyone following their dreams wherever they take them, I did not really understand how Salima thought she was coming to New York. But given I was leaving tomorrow, I was happy to have someone else's problems to discuss.

Nacho left on the bike, and then Saber needed to run Salima to the bus station so she could get home, leaving me to sit for a few minutes at the cafe to admire this view of Sevilla one more time.

When Saber returns we are taking the night by foot vs. bike. Walking around the neighborhood and then landing at Cafe Giralda, again. This was definitely our spot, and I found it appropriate given that the first night I was in Sevilla, I dined here as well and sat in the exact same chair at the very same table. Things do always seem to come full-circle.

The cathedral is fully lit and provides the perfect back-drop to our dinner.

We order little, as neither of us are that hungry. We are tired, and not really wanting to talk about flights and post-Spain plans.

From dinner we go to the bar around the corner from Saber's and have a few "copas" before calling it a night. Its 2:45AM. One of the earliest times we have ever gone home.

Reflection

Before taking a final siesta in this sun-drenched country, I ran a few errands picking up a few "must-haves" before my flight tomorrow afternoon. I wander back over the Triana bridge, watching the shadows of people passing on the river below. And I wonder what exactly it is about Sevilla that has a hold on me. Its absolutely stunning, that is for sure. But so is Paris. So is Madrid. So is Buenas Aires. And beauty is only skin deep -- my time in Italy more than proved that.

The weather in Sevilal is terrific, if you like hot. In the three weeks I spent here, there had been 2 cloudy days and 5 raindrops. The rest was bright blue and super sunny. The cost of living was definitely a plus. But the one word that kept resonating with me as I wandered back to Barrio de Santa Cruz is "authentic". Sevilla is authentically beautiful. You see this in the architecture, the way of life, and the people.

People in this lovely part of the world live through their hearts, not their heads. This is seen in the close family ties. The way men treat women with honesty and sweetness. The way people make their money. The way the whole neighborhood turns out for a funeral. The way Feria lasts til 6AM every night because spending time with close friends is important and enduring. The way the people laugh. The way the people smile. The way people are.

People here know how to just "be". They are not always worrying about making a ton of money through stressful jobs and high-power careers. They work so they can live. They do their jobs well, and then they play. They take siestas because they are tired. They eat because they are hungry. Here, there is not an obsession with food and dieting like in America. Everyone here is not trying to be a size 2. Their excercise comes in the form of walking or biking. Few people here have actually been on a treadmill, as when they run or walk they prefer to be going somewhere.

Here is an authentic existence. And my days here taught me that the authentic part of me is the best part of me. That the authentic life is the best life. And finding authenticity is others is the true treat of knowing people.

Sevilla, thank you. Thank you for giving me back 'me". Thank you for making me more than what I was when I first exited the train, oh so long ago. Thank you for teaching me more about how I want to be, and how I want to live. Thank you, sweet city, thank you.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

You're Going to Make Me Lonesome When You Go

Waking up on Monday morning, my mind is in overdrive. I find myself wanting to take a mental snapshot of everything. From the views on my morning run, to the entrance to Saber's shop, to walking into Jonata's and seeing Jesus and Antonio in el Barrio. Its crazy. How did so much time pass? How did the end of May arrive so soon?

I know I am acting a little off. And I am. Tomorrow is happening too soon.

Despite the mental retardedness of his house guest, Saber is cool as a cucumber. He goes to work like normal, gives me the keys when I finish running, and asks that we have lunch together. As if this wasn't a given!

I can't be bothered with writing on this super-hot day. I sit and watch the people pass by. People I have seen countless times by now. Some I say hello to. Some I just smile. Some I watch with wonder.

How precious my days have been here. Its like always being lost in the happiest of daydreams.

Joseph is now speaking to me without fear of Saber's wrath, so we chat about my return to the US. We share a beverage while I wait on Saber to appear around the corner, and when he does, Saber orders a cerveza and joins us.

Around 3:30PM we set off for lunch. There is a heaviness in the air that is not caused by the 35 degree celcius temps.

We go in Las Teresas and order tapas. While we wait, Saber is asking me about New York, my apartment, what I will do when I get there, etc. etc. He can tell I am trying to fill the conversation with meaningless chatter as I don't want to talk about leaving. So he does the next best thing, and says, "You'll be back. I know it."

I will always remember that brief conversation with fondness, as I realized that short statement was what made Saber different than other relationships I had known. We never talked about whether or not we missed each other when I would go to Italy or Rota. Our conversations were always about moving forward. They were about focusing on the positive. They were not about dwelling in the past. About sadness, or missing someone. He could have simply asked if I would miss him, and that would have been about his ego. But no, he chose to focus on where I wanted to be. He is such a selfless person.

I am not as much. As when I had the chance I thanked him for putting up with me and sharing his home and his life with me. He just looked at me with those wise eyes and said, "Well, you know, you can always change your ticket... I could put up with you for a few more days."

Don't tempt me, Senor Fakih. This is one flight I know I must be on.

Time is short, and the road is long.

Returning to Sevilla brought with it a feeling of sadness. This was my last time on the Andalucia Express for now. This was my last time rambling through the Spanish countryside. This was my last time watching Saber think he could get my bag on his motorbike.

I felt a sense of impending doom when I left the bus. When I saw Saber sitting with the two helmets at the station, lost in thought, I wanted to hide behind one of the pilars and just watch him. Unfortunately, he spotted me just as this idea struck. As our eyes met, there was an edge to the way we looked at each other. Time apart had only brought a sense of reality, I was leaving in two days. 48 hours. While neither of us could tell you what was going on between us, the reality was it would soon be over. Spain is 6 hours away -- timewise and plane time -- its amazing how far that can be.

Saber handed me a helmet, and took my bag. We mounted the bike, and we were off and bound for el barrio. We have said little. Its crazy how two months ago we were strangers, and now I could read him like a book.

We parked the bike on the cobbled streets, and toss my bag in the apartment. Nacho is waiting on Saber at Las Columnas. When Nacho sees me, he can only shake his head. This crazy American, she is never going to leave!

We have a drink at the tables outside, and then move to another bar around the corner where we meet Carlos and Assun. We go to Cafe Giralda for dinner, and eat while standing at the bar.


We move to another place, all the while I feel the sands drip from the hourglass...slowly, steadily, painfully.

I feel my mind taking over my body as my heart goes in search of solace. I don't want to go. Not now. Not ever. I fought so hard to be here, and yet I know I must return to New York, even if its just to tidy up so I can come back.

But when I come back, it will be different. And everyone involved knows that. What those differences will be, are not yet known. And its that unknown that makes us cling to the present, for this might be all we have left...or it might be the beginning. But the truth is, no one knows. And its the not-knowing that makes these moments the hardest.

A Slice of Life

Eline and I always have the best time together. Much of that time revolves around eating and drinking, and for my last weekend in Rota we were all about doing both.

After our seafood feast we had gelato, and then went home, put Miguel to bed, and got down to some serious gab. There is just so much you can tell a girlfriend's boyfriend about his friend that you are seeing, you know?

With a full bottle of rioja, we began an afternoon of storytime, which really did last all afternoon and into the early evening. I told her about my attempt to Feng Shui Saber's apartment. I told her about the adorable conversations he and I had shared. I told her about him ordering my flamenco jacket and how he always was taking care of me. I told her all the things that had been left out earlier, and I told her that while I did not know exactly how I felt about Saber, I did feel good, and feeling good in a relationship is a feeling that had eluded me way too often.

As the sun began to set we gathered up our gear to head to the beach. How we talk for hours on end, I just don't know...

When we got back, Miguel was awake, and we made our regular movie-watching cheese and apple tray, and enjoyed more wine.

We set in for a night of Gossip Girl and more easy conversation. And then the next day we did the EXACT same thing, except we ate Mexican for lunch instead of seafood.

It cracks me up how predictable life is here, but oh, how delicious!

Me & My Microwave are Moving to Spain!

The roadtrip from Sevilla to Rota was fairly uneventful. Although, I was quite proud of myself for figuring out which bus I was to take with no help from anyone. Saber had wanted to come with me to the station, but I politely declined, telling him I was a 'big girl' and could figure it out myself.

I think he is amused by me. He is not really sure what to make of this American that has more or less moved into his apartment, taught him about Feng Shui, and likes to do everything on her own. I catch him shaking his head at me with a smile more often these days, and when Nacho asks him in Spanish (as he doesn't think I understand) about me, Saber has this look that is half-adoring, half-bewildered that comes over his face and responds, "no lo so". He doesn't know.

As the bus made its way through the Spanish countryside, I fall into a deeper state of love with this country. From the aqua skies, the golden fields, the medieval towns perched high on the hills, the bulls grazing in the afternoon sun... I am in love more than any girl can possibly be. I savor these moments, as I know that in a week these views will be few and far between.

When we arrive in Rota, I disembark and look for Eline & Miguel. They are not to be found. I don't have their phone numbers. But I know they are coming. I wait without worry at the gate to the station, and two minutes later I see their SUV pulling up.

There was something odd about seeing them again, and I think for them too. For almost two months we had known each other, and were now woven into the fabric of each others' lives. I wasn't a temporary passenger in their vehicle anymore. I wasn't a hitch-hiker in need of a place to stay. I was a friend who had come to see them -- leaving the place I loved so that I could be with them, because they are my friends, and that is what friends do.

It was 3PM and I was starving, as were they. We went to a seafood place that we had visited on the first night I was with them. As we parked and got out of the car, Miguel gave me a hug as did Eline. I could tell they were waiting on something as we went into the restaurant. Everyone wanted to know what was going on with Saber.

So I told them the stories of the past several days...how I had not planned to stay all week, and yet I had...how I loved Sevilla more than I did when I left for Italy a week ago...how Saber calls me his "hunny" and his "queens" and "mi nina gordita" and the last I was not so fond of...how Saber checks on me at the cafe when he think I am not paying attention, but I see him out of the corner of eye and I don't look up so he doesn't know I see him and so he will keep doing this as I secretly adore it...about the way I spend every day the same way and I LOVE it...about the drama with Joseph...about meeting the neighbors and Saber's Moroccan friends...about staying out until 4AM every night... about waking up and running, and then doing practically nothing all day. And more than anything, loving life. Loving my life.

Miguel tells me I look different. That I look like a different person, and Eline agrees. Finally on this journey of a thousand steps, I had learned to relax, I had learned to rest, I had learned to be happy and worry about little else.

We order wine and large plates, and get ready for a feast.

The conversation turns to next steps when I go back on Tuesday. And I don't really know what they are, and I am not really worried. With five days left, the last thing I want to think about is going back to America.

We talk about the reality of my move to Spain. Where I hoped to live, how I planned to live, would Saber be involved and if so, how much... Eline wanted to know what would happen if I just stayed, what I really needed to do in New York.

And I guess I hadn't really thought about it before. There was my job, that I had committed to returning too. There was my family that I really wanted to see. There were a few people in New York that I still cared about and was looking forward to seeing as well. There was the apartment I had committed to. There was my PO Box that I needed to check. And there was my storage unit that held all my clothes, and a microwave.

Miguel, who has one of those subtle hilarious personalities, looked at me seriously, and said, "Yes Paige, I agree. You must go back for the microwave."

It made me laugh, but there was an element of truth that he had hit on. There was very little I was looking forward to in returning to New York. It was more about shoulds, than wants. It was about cleaning up the remaining bits of the mess I had made when I left. Sorting what was left of my Manhattan life. Figuring the keepers from the tossers, and packing up what was left and getting back to where I wanted to be... for me.

The afternoon slipped away like they all do in Spain. Lots of wine, lots of laughter, lots of genuine happy smiles. Lots of honest, if somewhat silly, conversation. Lots of truth and ultimately, lots of GOOD times.

As we wandered to the beach and then wandered home again, I was once again foot-loose and fancy-free, and truly the happiest girl on the block. I just love Spain, and the way I feel here, lets me know that she loves me back.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Paige del Mundo

On Friday morning, I was up with the alarm and I am running through the streets of Sevilla a bit earlier than usual. I was heading to the beach for a final weekend with Eline, and the goal was to be on a 1PM bus, freshly showered and caffeinated and having said goodbye to Saber...for the weekend.

When my morning routine was over I met Saber at the shop to get directions to the bus station. I think he did not really think I was going, as when I walked into his shop with my weekender tote, he looked a bit puzzled and he said, "You're leaving me? Will you miss me a little?" He wanted to have coffee at Jonata's before I made my way to the station, so he had Antonio (neighboring shop owner) watch his store while he joined me at the cafe.

I sat down at our usual table and Saber went in to get our twin cafe con leche. While I was waiting a tourist stopped and asked for directions and when I spoke with an American accent he asked where I was from. "New York" I told him. He was from Oklahoma.

As they walked away, Saber was standing there with our coffees and was shaking his head at me.
"YOU are NOT from New York," he said. "Why do you tell people that?"

"Well, where do you think I am from?", I ask. "I grew up in Georgia, I spent time in Florida, I lived in Atlanta and have been in NYC for the past 7 years."

He got that "Saber look" and he said, "When people ask you where you are from, you tell them you are from the world. People like you are not from New York. You are Paige, Paige of the world. Its much better, don't you think?"

Why yes, Saber. I absolutely do.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Lost in Translation

When I get up from my siesta, Saber had already returned to work so I showerd and head to the cafe. The street is busier than usual, and Jonata's is hopping! Typically at this hour, I am the only one seated at the four tables lining the street, but not tonight. Three of four tables are full, and extra chairs have been pulled outside to accomodate the crowd. My table is open and I sit down and begin downloading my thoughts.

As I write, one of the guys at the table in front of me comes over 'to chat', which was annoying. I wanted to be alone. I made it obvious I wasn't interested in chatting and went back to what I was doing. Just then I got a message from Saber, "Como estas my nina?" I tell him I am fine but these guys are hitting on me.

In 5 seconds from the moment I pressed send, I see Saber rounding the corner, with a no nonsense strut. I look up and ask him what's wrong, and he is all flustered "Are you okay?" "Que pasa?!"

I didn't understand what he was referring to, and told him I am fine. He looked at me with a puzzled look, and asked where I had been hit.

Ah. 'Hitting on'. Not hit.

A little language lesson for Saber, and he shakes his head. Tells me I am nothing but trouble (with a grin) and heads back to the shop to close up.

Everyone Has a Story of Love Gone Wrong

Today's lunch was going to be spent with Saber's Moroccan friend, Salima, who is stunningly gorgeous. I could see Saber being interested in her after I left Sevilla. They were both Moroccan, and she really was stunning. However, this thought would be rethought as the day progressed.

We had drinks and tapas at Las Columnas, and then the three of us (Saber, Salima and I) went back to Jonata's for another drink, and after a cerveza Saber leaves us to 'girl talk' while he takes a siesta. This is when Salima told me she was married. My jaw totally dropped! Married? Apparently, she met a guy in Rabat, her home town, two years ago who was Spanish, and they dated long distance for a year. He wanted her to come to Spain, but for that to happen, he needed to marry her, so he did. Since their wedding day, he has treated her horribly, not giving her money for clothing or toiletries when she did not have a job. (The unemployment rate in Spain is 20%.) He was a lawyer and was gone most of the day, but expected her to be home should he come home for lunch, and he expected to make dinner every night. Salima had not made too many friends in Spain, so she was alone most of the time.

I was so saddened by her story! I wanted to befriend this girl, and told her to come out with us that night. She said she couldn't and needed to be going to get home to make dinner for her jerk of a boyfriend. (she preferred calling him a boyfriend vs. a husband) We exchanged numbers and I told her to call me if she changed her mind about joining us. I guess even in this lovely little place, men could be idiots too.

I was sad for Salima. I had shared my story of a broken engagement with her, and she said she was jealous that I had gotten out of a bad relationship. In comparison to her situation, I was kind of jealous of my situation too.

Throughout my travels, I seemed everyone had a break-up story or a bad relationship story.

  • In Barcelona, Maria was divorcing her husband of 7 years and was worried about her little girl.
  • In Madrid, Jose told me of how he treated his ex-fiance poorly and she broke up with him, taking the house, car and everything. (good for her!)
  • In Rota, I had learned the details of Eline's break-up with her husband of ten years.
  • In Granada, Karlyn had shared her story of breaking up with her ex.
  • In Venice, Stephanie had shared her story of her ex.
  • In Tuscany, Romeo told Sandra and I the sorted details of his father's break-up with his mother, and dealing with his new step-mother, Pascal.
  • In Verona, Giuseppe was trying to set up his friend GianCarlo, who was recently divorced.
  • And in Sevilla, I had heard break-up stories from Saber, Joseph, and now Salima.

Everyone seems to have a sad tale of love gone bad. I was nice to know that other people were in my shoes, and I hoped for each tale of failed romance there was a happy tale of love waiting for everyone...myself included.

I'm a local!

The next morning, I am feeling a little hazy from the night before. Saber had never really snapped out of the Joseph-drama-slump, even after getting involved in darts tournament with a group of Moroccans, and the late night had a done a number on me. I got up, but not to run, and went straight to Jonata's.

I found my table, my chair, ordered my coffee and got down to business. I had a few work emails to reply too, I had to organize travel, and I just needed to take care of a few things for me. This morning I needed to focus on my world, I would worry about Saber when I saw him at lunch.

Just as this thought past my mind, Saber wanders out into the street and makes a right to head to the shop. He gets half way up the block, stops turns around and sees me at the cafe and wanders over. He looks awful. His hair is crazier that I have ever seen it. He hasn't shaved. He's a mess. Hangovers will do that to you.

He doesn't sit down as he has to get to work, but asks me to bring him a coffee in a few minutes. I can tell he needs some time to himself so I bring him a coffee and head straight back to the cafe. At some point, I get a note on Facebook from him asking me not to speak to Joseph should he show up. No sooner had the note from Saber arrived in my inbox, then Joseph comes out of his building and does the most awkward thing possible. He sits at the table in front of me, facing me, so if I look up I have to look at him and over the two empty chairs between us. What is this old man's problem?!

I roll my eyes and try and focus, when Jonata introduces me to a regular (whom I have yet to meet). His name is Pepe and he had just come from the beauty parlor. Tomorrow, he was getting on a plane for the first time in his life to go and see a lady friend in Hong Kong. 31 hours in the air! I could not believe he had chosen that as his first flight on an airplane! Pepe was excited to practice his English with me, thanked me by buying me a tinto de verano, and then had to leave to go pack.

As soon as Pepe left, the couple that lives in Joseph's building came out with their dog, and sat down for lunch. They smiled and waved "buenas dias". These were the only words we ever exchanged as my Spanish had not progressed from speaking English with Saber.

Next on the scene was a Joseph's lunch date. A middle-aged woman, who could have been the Queen of England the way Joseph was treating her. But hey, good for him. He needed to get some action.

At some point, my computer battery died and I had to get the powercord which I plugged in inside Jonata's and ran the cord outside to my table.

When Saber showed up around 3PM, I think the sight me plugged into the cafe and running the show on the sidewalk got him to snap out of his funk. He was like "what are you doing??!!" with a huge grin on his face. "You have your computer plugged into Jonata's shop, Pepe has bought you a drinks. Joseph is ignoring you. And everyone is waving "hola" to la American. Que pasa?" I was quite proud of myself for the friends I had made at the cafe, and gave him a big smile and said, "I'm officially a local". To which he replied, "You are officially loco."

Gaming It

To get Saber's mind off of Joseph, I remind him of the Bilbao vs. Barce match we had planned to see that evening. It was clear Saber's mind was still on his disrespectful neighbor, as he led us to the exact same bar we had been in for lunch that day. (Earlier we had made a pact to always eat somewhere different and try new things.)

I had never seen Saber so testy so I wasn't going to tell him of this, and instead grabbed a seat at the bar to watch the match.

By half-time, Saber has wound down enough to order, and the drama with Joseph remained off the table for the rest of the night.

Bilbao lost, which wasn't the hoped for outcome. (Poor Saber, not his night was it?)

So since he wasn't winning at his games, I suggested we play darts at the pub around the corner from him.

I love bar games. Photohunt was my all-time favorite, but something told me that playing a game where you look at men in underwear was not going to go over so well right now. Darts seemed a safer option.

When we got to the bar, we were the only ones playing, which was good as Saber had never played before so I had to explain the rules.

This was for sure one of those nights where I was determined to lose. I don't think getting beaten by a girl tonight would go over so well right now.

We played for two hours, and some of his friends joined us at one point.

We had a fun night, but I could tell Saber wasn't 100% over the drama with Joseph. It bothered me because I didn't really know what to do about it. But really, there was nothing I could do. This one was between the boys.

Drama!

During the evening, as I was writing at the cafe while Saber finished up in the shop, I saw Joseph standing in his window and I waved up to him to be neighborly. He waved back and seemed to start to say something, but then changed his mind and disappeared. He is such an odd man.

Three minutes later Joseph is walking out of his building and over to my table.

"Hola! Buenas Noches..."

He tells me was thinking of opening a bottle of wine and asks if I would like to join him. I told him I am waiting for Saber to finish and then we would come up together.

Joseph then tells me he doesn't allow smoking in his house, to which I tell him Saber doesn't have to smoke.

He then tells me he wanted to watch a movie later in the evening and he was thinking of asking me to join him.

This whole conversation was very strange. I was getting the feeling Joseph was hitting on me, but who would be that rude or disrespectful to their neighbor? I tell Joseph we will be up in a little bit, and he returns to his house.

Jonata is standing at the door to his shop looking suspicious, and I decide to go tell Saber about the invitation.

In the shop, Saber is alone. He pops up when he sees me enter and asks what I want to do that evening. I tell him about Joseph's invitation, just as I had told him about Joseph's ex-girlfriend passing by on the street earlier that afternoon, and how Joseph told me about dating an 18 year old -- Saber was equally shocked with the last bit as I was.

Saber makes a face at the invitation, and I tell him we should be neighborly. As a side note I tell him he can't smoke at Joseph's. I am heading out the door at this moment, and I see Saber jerk to attention as I say this. He looks at me with a fierce gaze and says, "Did Joseph tell you that?" Yes, he did.

I head back to my perch outside the cafe, and had not been seated for more than 10 seconds when Saber in his bad-ass mode comes marching around the corner. Que pasa?

He comes over and asks me to tell him exactly what Joseph told me. I thought it was clear, but I repeated that Joseph had asked me to join him for a glass of wine, and I told him that when Saber was finished we would come up, and Joseph had said "but I don't like smoking in my house" and I said that it was okay, Saber wouldn't smoke.

Saber did not seem happy. Infact, he seemed pissed off.

He tells me he is closing the shop ASAP, and asks me to not speak to Joseph should he return to the cafe. What in the hell was going on? Obviously these two had more issues than I thought.

Saber is back in 5 minutes, which is the fastest he has ever closed the shop. He marches directly into Jonata's and has a "chat" with him. The two are deep in discussion when I approach to ask what in the world is going on. Saber tells me he will fill me in momentarily. I head to the ladies room, and when I get back to the table outside, Saber is sitting in the chair I had been sitting in facing the windows of Joseph's house.

He tells me he doesn't want me speaking to Joseph. That Joseph has no respect for other people, and he was a bad neighbor. Joseph is rude. And yes, a hustler. (I had to laugh internally at this last one).

It dawned on me then what was going through Saber's head. He thought Joseph was hitting on me by asking me up for a drink, and that by saying "no smoking" he was suggesting that Saber not come. Saber also filled me in on WHY Joseph had told me about the 18 year old girlfriend.

As the pieces of the puzzle came together, I saw Saber glaring into the sky, and when I looked over my shoulder Joseph was standing in his window. Now I get why Saber had taken my seat.

Men!

P is for Predictable

I was on day 4 of being back in Sevilla, and not one day had been different than the first. My schedule operated around Saber's schedule at the shop. And as the hour was drawing close to 3PM, I knew sooner or later Saber would appear around the corner and come to Jonata's for a cerveza and then we would begin our daily wander to find something to eat. It truly was always a wander, as we never knew where we were going when we set out and because of my love for this area of Sevilla I directed our path by what caught my eye. We never went anywhere too quickly.

At 3:05PM, Saber comes around the corner, sits at what has now become "our table", and without ordering Jonata brings him a cerveza and me Tinto de Verrano. My life has become quite predictable in such a short amount of time!

After our drinks, we wander the winding streets of el barrio, planning to go somewhere new. There are 1,000s of tapas place in Sevilla, so this shouldn't be too hard. Saber picked a spot, and when we are seated he commented that this place was excellent to come and watch football. "Its what you Americans call a 'Sports Bar'." Now that was funny. This place only had ONE TV. Goodness, if he were to see some of the American sports bars in the city he would be in absolute heaven!

We ordered tapas (of course), and vino for me and cerveza for him. We caught each other up on the happenings of the morning and early afternoon. I filled Saber in on his neighbors and what I witnessed at the cafe, and he caught me up on what was going on in the shop. We ate slowly, talked quickly, and laughed often...just as we did every single day at this hour.

My life had become so predictable in such a short amount of time, and yet, I would not swap these moments for anything. I laughed at myself daily regarding my new found routine. The Paige Miller I knew two months ago would never stand for this. Same thing for lunch everyday? Sitting at a cafe for hours vs. going and doing something new? Taking a siesta? These are things that relaxed people did. I had never been a part of that club.

Sevilla was truly doing a number on me. For once I understood why people stayed put in a city or a place, how they could put roots down and own property. I had never found a place that felt good enough to stay for too long. Even in New York, I was always making plans to leave the city whenever I got the chance.

And yet here, I just wanted to 'be'. I wanted afternoons to do nothing except lay under a tree by the river, or write at the cafe, or wander the citrus-scented streets with no feeling of pressure to move more quickly to get somewhere else. I had nowhere else I wanted or needed to go. And that fact alone was just fine by me.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Reading (and Writing) Between the Lines

The next morning was the same routine as every morning this week. I am running in the park by 10, showering by 11AM, and at Jonata's by 11:30AM. For some reason after my first coffee I kept thinking I had something to tell Saber but since I couldn't remember exactly what that might be I figured if I saw him it might jump start my memory.

When I walk in his shop, he's like "Paige, I have been trying to call you." He said it so seriously, I was nervous to look at him. "I have your computer."

And...

"My friend was able to fix it. You can now write the great American novel."

Hallaleujah! I had almost become resigned to the fact that my computer was down until I got back to New York -- 3 more weeks. It was troubling, but what else could I really do except by a new one? Leave it to Saber to get things sorted. He is just amazing.

With my computer in operation, my previous plan to lay out on the roof and soak up some sun was immediately tossed out the window. I was headed to the cafe for more coffee and many hours to catch up on the events of my travels.

As I sat down, I perused what had been writen prior to the breakdown, Joseph (elderly neighbor of Saber) asked if he could join me. I was seated at a table for two, but was only using half of it, and all the other tables were taken so I said sure. He ordered lunch and we chatted while he ate.
As he was finishing his lunch, a woman and a decent looking man walked by. The woman was typical Spanish, with dark hair, slightly larger in size, and dressed in an outfit that was too tight. She knew Joseph, and after a big hug and two kisses, they talked quickly in animated Spanish.

As she walked away, Joseph explained that had been his ex-girlfriend of 14 years. That she had left him a year ago for the man that was with her. Not to be critical, but compared to her new boyfriend Joseph was a relic. I could see where she might have wanted to trade in for a newer model. I guess Joseph knew what I was thinking as he then proceeded to tell me about a time when he was 48 he had dated an 18 year old for 18 months. He did the math for me, pointing out the age difference was almost thirty years.

Why was he telling me this? I did not see how it was possible that a 18-year-old would be happy dating a 48-year-old. Well, maybe some 48-year-olds, but not Joseph. Joseph was about thirty years older than me, and there was NO WAY I would EVER be interested in him. EVER.

Joseph finished his lunch, and I went back to writing while waiting for Saber to have lunch, which was in about twenty minutes. When he sat down I caught him up on the neighborhood gossip, which mostly consisted of my conversation with Joseph.

Saber looked at me funny, as he took a long inhale on his cigarette and slowly exhaled. "You be careful with Joseph," he said. "I don't know that you can trust him."

I am never going to get to write again!

On Tuesday, after my run, I was sitting at the cafe when I see Saber around the corner motioning me to meet him for a chat. Apparently the computer place had called and they could not fix my computer. Crap. So I had to go pick it up.

In the store, I spoke to the the same salesman as yesterday, and in our conversation referenced what he had told 'my brother'. (Seriously, do S and I look like brother and sister?) He gave me the name of another place to take the machine and as I wandered there, Saber called saying he had a friend that might be able to fix it.

I am a little discouraged that it is taking so long to get my computer fixed, as I had hoped to spend the majority of the week writing.

The computer shop was of no use, so I hurried back to Santa Cruz to give it to Saber's friend. Who knows if this would work, but its better than nothing.

Sevillian Date Night

After Azil's debut, I needed a siesta, which I took while Saber closed the shop.

While I waited at the cafe, Saber showered and got ready, for what, I wasn't entirely sure. I never know plans in Sevilla. I never really feel compelled to make many. I just let life happen.

When Saber emerged, he had the helmets, which meant we were taking the bike. He approached, "We go?" He said we were heading to the place in Triana, that is known for barbeque quail. He had told me about this place last week, saying it was the place "to eat birds". This sounded odd to me, although of course we eat 'birds' in America -- chicken or turkey. But the way he was saying it had me baffled, so I did my research and discovered the 'small birds' Saber was talking about were actually quail. Which I was fine with.

I am not opposed to trying new things (I ate horse meat in Verona and Octopus with tentacles still attached in Canaria.), but I do like to know what I am getting into. I could definitely handle tonights menu. Although when Saber told me he had a surprise after dinner, I had to admit I was curious...more so than knowing what 'small birds' were on the menu.


The quail place was typical Sevillian. We ordered at the bar, and then gathered around tables in the courtyard, pulling the meat off the delicate bones. The birds were very tasty, and after two each we moved indoors as the temperature had dropped with the setting sun.


We ate caracoles and then decided to move on. Where, I wasn't sure, as Saber had said it was a surprise. We rode on the bike a few kms, and then on the street that runs along the river in Triana, he stopped the bike and said we were here. Seriously? All I saw was a police station. He covered my eyes, and led me down a long row of steps. This was a little anerving as I typically don't do surprises. (I like to find out about them and then act surprised.)

We seemed to get to the bottom, and Saber kept moving me forward and then removed his hand. "Surprise".

Before me was a view of the Torre de Oro, the Cathedral, the Giralda, all glowing brightly and shining on the river. Saber had found this place over the weekend while I was in Italy, and had wished he had the chance to show me such a sight. Funny, how life works out.

We ordered drinks and sat by the river and chatted the night away.


One of the ladies in the bar wanted to serenade us, which made for an interesting soundtrack to the evening.

It was a lovely, little evening. And I knew somehow, someway, I had to find my way back here once May had passed and I had returned to American soil. Life is too short to not feel this magnificent everyday.

Hanging with the Locals

My first day back in Sevilla, I awoke with the alarm and went for a long run in the park. This time I did not get lost. I met Saber at his shop after my shower, and had a coffee with him. The weather wasn't so sunny, but it wasn't raining either. Because my computer was down for the count, I spent the first part of the day writing in my journal and then returned to the shop at 3PM to go have lunch.

I had called Eline earlier to figure out our plan for meeting up. I wasn't sure I would stay with Saber all week. I wasn't really sure what my plan was, in fact. I figured I would figure it out when I did, and wouldn't worry too much about it until then.

Saber and I went to lunch with his friend Azil, who was quite a character. He was also from Morocco (Tangiers), and wanted to practice his English, which worked out well since I was clueless in Arabic.

Azil was quite the entertainer. He wanted to share the details of his new relationship. A brand spanking new one-month old relationship. He had met the family the night before. His girlfriends father had given him a horse (interesting) and his girlfriend had let him move in with her and her 4 -year old! He was quite proud that in one-month he had gotten a girlfriend, a new apartment, a horse, and a kid. Silly me, I thought the last part took at least 9 months to come about.

From lunch we found a bar, where Nacho was going to meet us. The bartender was Napolese, and could do little to convince me that Napoli was not the most awful place. We stayed here for a bit, and then I needed to take my computer to the shop. I left and wondered my way home, only to get a call from Saber in 10 minutes, saying he thought it best if he went with me and to meet him outside the store.

He sorted it out with the sales guy, and left his number for us to be called when it was time to pick it up. We returned to his shop, got beers, and hung out... Azil still in tow. They wanted to listen to American music, and Azil wanted to dance. Check him out. Is he cool, or what?

Sunset on a Beautiful Day

When I woke, I had to struggle to figure out where I was. I almost thought I was dreaming, but quickly realized I was back at Saber's, and most importantly, back in Sevilla.

I showered and heading out of the apartment I called Saber, who was 10 feet away at Jonata's, and had been for three hours. Jonata was closing his shop, and the plan was to have drinks on the terrace as the sun set.
Saber's friends from Barcelona joined us, as well as Jesus, and Rosia (Jonata's wife). Saber even invited Joseph as friendly gesture, and we were all surprised when he showed up!



When Nacho arrived on his motorbike, I leaned over the edge of the roof, "Hola, Nacho!" His only response was "Que pasa?"He should have known I would be back.

Around 10PM, the neighbors start closing their windows at the noise from our party, so we moved the party to a courtyard by the Alcazar.

I love how you can just drink in the streets anywhere in Spain. Nothing is offlimits. We were standing outside of one of Sevilla's most well-known attractions and no fuss was being made to chase us away. A policeman walked by and waved, 'Buenas Noches' and went on. I

At midnight, we finally made a move towards dinner, which involved taking the motorbike to a pizza place in another neighborhood. Saber's friend ran a trendy little pie shop, and honestly it was some of the best pizza of my life -- I would dare to say better than Joe's!
It was now almost 2AM, and the gang wanted 'one more drink' so we went to a nearby bar until 4AM.


I was exhausted when we got home, and had one of the best sleep's of my life.

Back to My Citrus-Scented Life

Getting from the airport to Barrio de Santa Cruz, was one of the easiest connections of my trip. The world seemed a bit calmer now. I felt settled. I felt at peace. I felt like me. Despite little sleep the night before, I was mentally alert yet very relaxed. My mind wasn't zooming in 5,089 directions as its normal state. It was an easy state of existence for me this afternoon.

At Saber's, I stored my bag beside the cupboard again. I washed my face to remove any last traces of Italian stress. And then we headed to find a bite to eat, choosing Cafe Giralda where I had eaten about 5 times in my days in Sevilla. It was one of my favorites, and Saber and I had enjoyed lunch here less than a week ago. Funny, how such little time had past, and yet I felt as if I had lived in a lifetime in the time I was away.

We ate at the bar, standing up. I told him about Italy, and the frustration I felt there. The awfulness of Naples, and the struggle to call him the night before. He laughed, and then looked at me seriously, and said, "You are one of the strongest women I know. There is no need to try and be Superman." I swear, for English to be his 4th language, he hits the nail right on the head everytime. Something about the concise messaging of his words have a way of saying, "its okay, Paige. Relax."

Back at his place, he gave me simple orders that were meant to be followed. Sleep. Shower. And then call him. I was in no mood to argue. My Italian travels had more than worn me out.

Here.

Getting where we want in life isn't always easy. Getting where we want to be often has its share of obstacles. And as I awoke at 3:30AM to shower and ensure I was at the train station in time, I knew whatever Italy had up her sleeve to keep me from getting back to Spain just wasn't going to work. No crooks. No pickpockets. No assanine train officials that wanted to threaten me with arrest. No nothing was going to stop me. I put on my tall, hard-toe boots for the journey just in case someone wanted to mess with me. Trust me, no idiotic Italian wanted to mess with me this morning. I was a woman on a mission.

Other than a cab-driver overcharging me, a drunk wanting to hassle me at the train station, and the gross seats on the train, my trip to Rome was just lovely.

On the train to the airport, I met a fellow American who had her passport stolen in Florence and was freaking out as she was flying back to Newark in two hours. I helped her sort out her mess, got a copy of her passport faxed to the airport, and got her to her gate on time.

As I waited at the gate for my own flight, I thought about the past 24-hours that led me to sitting in the Rome airport (again), returning to Sevilla (again). I thought about the mental struggle to call Saber. I thought about the struggle Italy had been. I thought about the struggle New York can be. I thought about men in New York and the empty struggle that can be as well. And I thought about the simple existence I lead in Sevilla. The easiness of the people. The easiness of life. The struggle-free-ness of it all. It dawned on me, that life is not to be one constant stuggle. We make it that with the things we put on ourselves. The decisions we make of the things we think we "should" do. The people we "should" know. The career we "should" have. The places we "should" be. The people we "should" be with. So many "shoulds".

But what about what we want?

When I started on my journey I was bound and determined to see three new countries -- Spain, Italy and Greece. Spain I loved. Italy, not so much. Greece was a wait-and-see situation. Three months ago, I would be saying to myself right now "you should go to Greece, you should persevere, you should deal with Italy." And why? Because I said I would? Because I feel that I "should"? And so what if I did those things, what would I have then? A few more gorgeous photos of beautiful places? Static images of camera-made moments that any postcard could do better? My trip wasn't about being static. It was about living. It was about following my own intuition to find my own personal plane of happiness. It was about knowing what I wanted, where I wanted to be. And then doing my damndest to get there. It was about finding the "here" I wanted, and then just "being here".

As I boarded the plane, I made a vow to myself to not get so bogged down in complicated measures again. Really feel with my soul, for the decisions I make in the most sincere part of me are not complicated. They are easy. They are freeing. They are simple.

As the plane took off I closed my eyes and thought how happy I was to be going back to the place I loved most. And when I opened my eyes again, there I was. I was back to 'here'.

I've had it. Done. Finito.

After a day in Capri, lounging by the sea, enjoying a fresh Caprese salad a glass of vino al fresco I am starting to feel better and more relaxed. I had arranged with the ferry service I used to get to Capri to meet them at 4PM get my bags and transfer to the larger ferry heading to Napoli.

Getting my stuff and finding the other ferry was easy, although it was the only time I was charged a "bag fee" in all my travels. I guess the Italians will do anything to make a buck.

The ride to Naples was sun-filled and enjoyable. With my ipod I could drown out all the tourists, and pretend I was elsewhere. From the port in Naples I found a taxi to my hotel and went inside its dingy exterior.

I had read that tourism in Napoli left a lot to be desired. The guidebooks were not lying. Outside my hotel was a 'market' resembling those you would find in Chinatown or Broadway. Lots of black market goods, electronic equipment, etc. I won't say I wasn't a little weireded out by this, but one night wouldn't be so bad, right?

Checking in was what it was. The guy was not the most helpful, and as he gave me the overweight key chain, he told me to 'be careful'. Seriously, if I dropped the keychain on my toe I would end up in the hospital!

His warning, I realized later, had nothing to do with the keychain. Nor my room, which was a borderline dump, but that is 3 stars in Italy for you!

The guy had been referring to Naples itself. Yes, it was sketchy. But I had no idea that I would need an escort to walk outside the hotel door. Yep, when I inquired about an electronic store to find a blackberry battery the receptionist motioned for the bellman to accompany me. I initially thought he was just giving me directions, but no he led me to every stop in my search. We stopped in five electronics stores, which were in a 100 ft radius of the hotel. One place eventually turned up an AFTER MARKET battery, which I bought for 25 Euro.

Back in the hotel, I realized there was no kitchenette or mini-fridge or area to buy even a bottle of water which I need to take with my medicine... not to mention, avoid dying from thirst. When I inquired about an ATM, or a market, the guy looked startled that I was going out -- again. "ATTENZIONE!" he warned. God, this place was giving me the creeps.

FINALLY, back in my dingy habitat for the night, it was time to get down to business and blog about my most recent adventures. It was 7PM and I had the whole evening to write, as I was prohibited from venturing out. Not that there seemed to be anything worth taking in.

When I turn on my computer, nothing happens. No lights. No screen. No nothing. I try again, and no such luck. I plug in my machine, and again, nothing changes. This had already happened once before, and I could not bear a repeat. Nothing changed the fact that my computer was once again down for the count.

I was pissed. Irritated. Beyond frustrated. All I wanted to do was write and yet I had nothing to allow such to happen. Sure, I could go old-fashioned with pen and paper, but with only 10 pages left in my journal there was no way I could catalog all the thoughts from the past few weeks. Without my computer, I felt lost. In my travels I had learned to love recording my thoughts at the end of the day. And for the next 10 days all I wanted to do was write, see new things, but most importantly put my thoughts down.

In frustration I called my mom, who has an ability to calm me down when the trivialness of life seems to wear me down. She let me vent about Italy and how much fun I WAS NOT having. The people were awful. The prices steep. The scenery beautiful, but so what? I wanted to do more than look at things in my travels. I wanted to interact and experience life and since getting to Italy there was very little I found intriguing except why I wanted to stay there.

Her letting me vent and get out the frustration of the... my God, had it only been 3 days since I left Sevilla? Three days and I was already in a state of frustration that was ruining the relaxed vibe I had when I left? Ruining the happy-go-lucky attitude I had adopted? It was very clear that Italy was not the place for me... at least now. I had been to 18 of its cities, they were lovely to look at but nothing to hold me there. I had sampled all of its culinary offerings and while they were all divine, living in NYC left nothing really to be desired. And the people, well, I knew where the good people were, and they were not in this boot-shaped country.

I got off the phone with my Mom, to call Eline to see what they were up to for the next few days, when it dawned on me I did not have her phone number. And upon further search in my phone, I realized that my contacts had been wiped out when my blackberry was stolen. I only had one name and number in the contact list. Saber.

I don't know why I pondered the decision to call him as long as I did. A good 20 minutes past before I actually dialed. The rationale behind such a lengthy decision-making process couldn't really be explained in logical terms. I knew he would be happy to get my call, I knew he would be happy to provide me with Eline's number, and knowing him he would probably offer his house to me vs. going to the beach with Eline and Miguel. It wasn't his reaction I struggled with. It was asking for help, it was admitting I needed it, and admitting for once I did not want this journey to be about always tackling issues and going somewhere new... alone. I didn't want to seem weak. I wanted to be back in Sevilla more than anything. I wanted to be with the people I now called friends. I wanted to drink overly strong cafe con leche, and drink rioja til 4AM. I wanted to sleep until 10AM, enjoy long runs in the park and write until my heart was content. I wanted to sit in Jonata's cafe and watch the world go by. I wanted to be there. And yet, I was here. In a dump of a hotel room. In a waste of a city, surrounded by crooks and villians and the sketchiest of the sketch. I wasn't where I wanted to be, and I knew until I made the phone call I couldn't be.

The phone rang twice, and Saber answered. "Hey Paige, how are you? You okay?" The events of the past three days spill forward. From not feeling well, to my computer breaking, from needing an escort to leave my hotel, to the fact there was somewhere else I had rather be. In his crazy accent he told me. "Italy's shit. Fuck it. Come back where the people love you. It's no problem. You stay with me. We fix your computer. I take you to the hospital. (obviously something was lost in translation...) Boom. Boom. Boom. And your happy again, okay? Call me when you get to the airport and I will meet you at the bus station. We will figure it out, okay?"

He gave me Eline and Miguel's numbers, and I promised to call him when my flight and such was booked.

Eline and Miguel were not surprised I was returning. Knowing the two of them, they probably had a bet going on how many days I would stay in Italy before returning. Whenever I had told them I was buying a ticket to Italy, they always asked why I bothered. Who really wants to leave Sevilla?

To streamline this process, Miguel booked my flight from Rome to Sevilla leaving at 10:40AM the next morning. The only problem with this is that I was in Naples, two hours from Rome. The only way to get there was by train. If you did the math I needed to be on a 5AM train from Naples to Rome to get to Rome by 7AM, I had to take a train to the airport from the train station that would take another hour, and I would be in Fiumicaro around 8AM, plenty of time for my flight. It was alot of travel, but who cares? The sooner I could get out of this place the happier I would be. 12 hours of travel was nothing!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Coasting through Capri

The next morning I got up, had a cup of tea in the lobby and checked out before 8AM so I could get to the town and get the ferry to Capri. I wasn't feeling the best, and if there was time before the shuttle, I hoped to stop in the pharmacy for some medicine to shake my stuffiness.

I found the ferry hut, bought my ticket and deposited my bags. I climbed the hill to the pharmacy, and was surprised when I was given open reign on what was available -- over the counter or prescription. Italy wasn't so bad afterall!

When I returned to the shuttle, the boat was waiting on me, and once aboard we were bound for Capri. The group on board was an eclectic mix for sure. We had the 6 token American tourists, complete with Disney world hats and American baseball t-shirts. We had two elderly English couples, one man with bad knees and the other man with a bad back. An Italian couple with child and the grandparents. And me, by far the youngest member of this clan.


Pulling away from Positano was a site to see. It truly was a magnificent village. Beautiful from afar, for sure. It just hadn't been for me. I was excited to be leaving its shore, there had been nothing else for me there except a few photographs and a lovely day at the beach.

The drive to Capri was manificent as well. The water was that deep aqua associated with the Mediterranean, and the surrounding cliffs were all untouched wonders.

Approaching Capri, we took in Tiberius's home on the hill, the lovely modern homes that had been added near by, and then went in search of the Blue Grotto.

Finding the sites in Italy uninspiring. Basically you listen for the loudest rumbling of English voices, or the most crowded place you can find and you wander there. Sites are not sacred or secret here. And even if its one of the most world reknowned, you do feel a bit like the idiot who pays $10 at the circus to see the man with two heads.
(See this small hole? Our boat fit through that)

The Blue Grotto was an experience, even if getting to it felt a bit like a sham. Four of us from our shuttle (me, the 2 English women and the man with the bad knees) climbed into a tiny rowboat and were told to lie down. (Is this sketchy or what?) The boat man rowed us over to the ticket booth to get our tickets, and then we were ready.

The boatman grabbed the chain, laid back with all of us and we squeezed into the tiny cave that held la Grotto Azzura. It really was amazing once inside. The aqua of the water shone with the light that passed under the cave walls. Tiberius used to bring his nymphs here, and I could see how they were enchanted.

The trip inside lasted all of 15 minutes, and once outside we were headed to the dock in Capri. I had no idea what to expect, as I had not really done my research. But I am sure I would figure it out. I always do.

Pondering Positano

I awoke to a sun-filled day in Positano. I awoke early as is my style, and wondered upstairs to find breakfast. I desperately needed coffee, and I desperately needed a plan for the day as I had been way too tired to make one before falling asleep last night.

I found coffee and a simple breakfast to get me started. I found my guidebook, perused a few pages and realized that most of what you do in Positano is wander around, lay on the beach or take a boat to Capri. So I did exactly that.

The town itself was quaint and small. Full of shops, cafes, hotels and don't forget the American tourists! I wandered up the hill, stopping in a few places, but nothing really caught my fancy. From here I found an empty sun-bed on the beach, gave the guy 5 Euro and basked away the affternoon. Capri could happen domani.

Late in the afternoon I am awoken from a daydream by construction work and I take that as my sign I am to go elsewhere. I return to my hotel, shower and make my way to an internet cafe (which is a total rip-off by the way...6Euros for every hour) to book a room for the following night in Naples.



I had dinner on the bay again. With the overly attentive server who seemed to want me out of there before I even sat down. He didn't like I brought my laptop with me, but it was the only place I could get internet.
The tables all around me spoke English. And when the full moon rose over the bay, all the cameras came out. Again, I had the feeling of wanting to be elsewhere. In all my travels this was a feeling that had eluded me. Why was it, that in Italy I always felt less because I was there? Why did my experiences always seem empty? And ultimately why did I keep pushing forward in a place whose only real reward was taking a few photos to say I had been there, before grabbing my bag and running to a next destination? It was puzzling to me. In Spain I truly had learned to be 'here'. And now in Italy, 'here' was the last place I wanted to be...even with a gorgeous view of a full-moon rising.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Italian Remake

Awaking in Rome as the plane landed, I had a few more stops to make before I could officially rest. I had a train to the Rome's Central Termini (main train station), and then a train to Napoli, and then a bus to Positano. I was exhausted. Cranky. And in no need for hassle.

Then why did I come to Italy you might ask! (I kind of asked myself this)

I will say returning to Rome seemed easier in some way, maybe because I had been here before or maybe I felt better overall after having some time with my new friends in my favorite city ever.

Anyway, I am here, so I may as well enjoy my time.

Arriving in Naples was one eyesore after another. The place was disgusting, filthy and so full of crooks and crooked deals. Upon learning that I had to take another train to Sorrento before getting the bus to Positano, I found a driver who could do it for less and we were on our way.

We stopped in Pompeii and I looked at the pile of rocks and rubble with about 1,000,000 other American tourists. We drove through Sorrento and I had a frozen granita (lemon ice). My driver pointed out Vesuvius, and Capri and Amalfi Coast and then dropped me at the road to my hotel, after overcharging me 20 Euro. Whatever. I have dealt with more.



My hotel is fine, I have a great view of the coast, as well as the scaled city. I will be fine here for two nights, and that seems like enough time to spend here. For now, I am exhausted. I need a shower and something to eat and then a good night's rest. I will deal with other things tomorrow.

Seeing Sevilla with Saber

After a siesta and a shower, I am ready for the evening. Around 7pm I pop into Saber's shop, and Saber is closing down. According to him we have too much to do for the shop to be open so we are closing. What was the first thing we did once the lock had latched? Head to Jonata's for a cerveza and a rioja. Interesting priorities, Saber!

After a drink, we are on the motorbike and headed to Triana to sort out my bolero jacket that matches my flamenco dress that went missing the night of Feria. I couldn't go alone as the dress maker doesn't speak A WORD of English. Saber would be acting as my translator once again.

He tells the woman I lost my jacket and I would like another one made. She is sorry for my loss and begins measuring my arms and asking where I want the cuffs to end. Saber pipes in and gives me his opinion on what he likes. A guy with a sense of women's fashion? Very interesting.

Once measured, she tells me it will be 50 Euros, which is double what I originally paid for it. Saber launches in and gives her a lesson in business, and somehow got 10 Euro knocked off. I didn't exactly think this was a fair price, but it was better, and I wanted to have the matching jacket, so we ordered it and Saber promised to pick it up for me when it was ready at the end of the month.

On the street, Saber is raving about "hustlers" again. He is such a funny one, but he is right about this woman. She was overcharging me for sure.

We get on the bike and head to sort out my next issue, my phone. Into Phone House, Saber takes the lead again, securing me a phone without a plan, popping in my sim card, and abracadabra, I am in communicado again!

This guy is really good at sorting out my issues, don't you think?

Now for some fun. Its the Chelsea vs. Barcelona futbol match and we are meeting up with Pepe in el barrio Macarena. We fly through the streets of Sevilla on the motorbike, and at every stop light Saber pats my leg and says "Aye, mi nina", or would blow me a kiss in the mirror. Sevillian men are just so sweet and adoring. I was loving my time with him.



At the "sports bar" (because it has ONE TV its considered a sports bar), Pepe is waiting on us. We order drinks as the game starts, and the bartender makes quite a production of serving my wine in a huge wine glass, and presenting me the bottle. Come on, its futbol. Wine is not fancy over football, right?

After 10 minutes I wander outside to call my mom and sister as it had been 3 weeks since I had talked to either. While I was chatting, Saber brought me my wine so I could drink it while chatting. And 20 minutes later he brought me a refill.


I simply love how he treats me. Whether he treats all women this way or just me, I have no clue. But I love knowing that someone has an eye on me, but isn't doting or controlling. In one word, he is considerate. He doesn't do things in a corny or 'look at me' manner, he does things because he wants to and its obvious. He expects nothing in return.


Another one of my favorite Saber-qualities is he listens. In two days I have given him the brushstrokes of my life, and he knows all the major players by name. He listens when I tell him what I am doing, and asks about events in my life. For just getting to really know me, he is very clued into how I am feeling and what I am wanting or in need of. His listening skills expands beyond what is spoken, which is such an amazing quality to have.

Back inside the bar, wine in hand, the boys are getting hungry and Saber thinks we need 'caracoles". I have no clue what such things are but apparently they are in season and a must have. "Summer treat of Andalusia", Saber tells me.

Snails. That's what caracoles are. Baby snails. And they were quite tasty, if you can get them out of the shell. We had a race with Pepe to see who could eat theirs the fastest. Of course we won, but it was a bit unfair, don't you think?

(First taste of Caracoles)(Caracoles Race with Pepe... I am a bit too dainty to be a fierce competitor!)

When Barcelona won the match, we were out of the bar quickly. Saber is not a fan of Barce, and there was no need to stand around. We hopped on the bike and headed to meet Nacho and his Uncle Tortilla who were at a bar by Saber's casa.
(Saber when Barcelona won)

Zooming through the crisp night air on the cobbled streets of this fantastic little place, was so freeing. I had to wonder what others thought when they saw the two of us together, as we were quite the odd couple. Kind of like the Moroccan version of Danny Zuco and the New York version of Sandra Dee. Yep, we were quite a pair.
(Aye, mi nina gordita!)

We found Nacho, and got drinks and the night wandered away as we drank in the streets, and then wandered to another bar next door.

(Even here, I talk way too much with my hands!)

We went home around 2AM. I finished packing for my early AM departure and then we sat on Saber's his new couch that had been delivered that afternoon. I was leaving in 3 hours, and being quite a talkative duo we chatted right up until time to go...well, almost I dozed off at 5AM and woke to the phone saying the cab was around the corner.

I jumped up, threw on fresh clothes, Saber grabbed my bag and we were dashing out the door. Leave it to me to leave no room for goodbyes... I just don't do them, and something told me it wasn't time to say goodbye to Saber. At least not yet.