First time in an other continent

First time I went to an other continent I thought it would have been by boat or with anything that I could enjoy and that could make me feel the time and climate changing in a smooth and natural way. I couldn’t: there was a terrible delay on my phd discussion in Torino. The big “Palazzo Nuovo” was closed due to a very bad asbestos contamination chance. My beloved tutor died of cancer two days after my phd discussion. He couldn’t even be there due to his sickness.

My plan of crossing the Atlantic Ocean blew up, and my saddness never actually touched that low level I was aspected from such a rough time. Probably this happened because I just went off: From my duties, my dreams, my businesses, my relationships and my everything: I just quitted!

I know it could sounds like many other stories but for many friends who could see me growing up in rules and obligations while having an anarchist spirit it was just a very aspected coming out for the good of everybody around. Most of the people that love me closer would agree that I’m much better away. Let’s say I was just holding my breath pretending to fit for something like 25 years.

Tis little collection of stories that nowadays we call blog will tell that it is not a fashionable way to get out of the way while being still around the western society in mind and purposes, but it is a little contribute for those who can still dream.

When money is not involved people rather thing there is no much going on, but I can swear especially coming where I come from, having that specific background, thinking what I’m thinking and fitting nowhere, that people like me can still live a great life just choosing their freedom.

So I was in an airplane, trying to recognize some caribbean islands from above. I travelled around Europe since I turned 18 and I could be able to afford a train ticket. I was a genius of self-orientation when it came about big cities and metros, but I remember I got lost in those clouds looking the America from above. It was a great thing, it was like watching my favourite book, the atlas, there, in my home bed in the closet where I started to dream about the world Back in the days. I was flying into South America, me, that girl that grew up in a room with no windows, and a scarse vision… At that time I was thinking “all of that is far from beeing enough”.

Still now, after four years travelling. I still think “that’s far from being enough”.

I chosed Colombia simply: it was cheap (I couldn’t get any farther with my budget), it was in the middle (good to look for some sailing options) it was in South America (even if I thought my first stop in s.a. it would have been Brazil) it was packed of indigenous beautiful culture, it wasn’t a tourist hotspots. All that sounded great!

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