30 days, 10 countries, and 15 cities later my eyes are wide open, just as I had hoped and my brain is a sponge dripping with images of virgins, scaffolds, fire bombings, spires, cathedrals, bridges, gondolas and markets, mountains, castles, red poppy fields, gaudi and hundertwasser, sunrises and strobe lights, steins, clocks, gardens, puppets, masks, and new faces. My ears are ringing with sounds of buses, trains, airplanes, french, german, dutch, czech, hungarian rhapsodies, "grazie", catalan, spanish; bells chiming, pigeons cooing, children screaming, gypsies begging, lisps, the national, broken social scene, blue ridge mountains, loud speakers, rain, british accents, cameras clicking, laughter, waves crashing, bottles breaking, coughing, and soccer chants. The best Indian food in the world is in London, I've sipped Gazpacho in Madrid, tasted Tzekinut in Budapest, I ate gelato for breakfast lunch and dinner, dined on "organic orgasmic crepes" and crema catalan in Barcelona, Lasagna al Forno in Venice, bratwurst and BananaWeisen in Berlin, and soup a L'onion in Paris. Smells of paprika, fumes, sugar, urine, jasmine, body odor, oregano, citrus, sea salt, gasoline, red wine and honey suckle, bread and cheap perfumes, cigarettes and marijuana flood my memory with landmarks of places passed and time spent. I pushed my hands against walls one thousand years old and mountains 500 million more. I spent 30 hours on a bus and learned how to sleep just about anywhere. I met some amazing people that made every castle taller, every day shorter and every color brighter. I grew victorious and connected, elevated and exhausted. I feel like a citizen of the world and a girl from the south.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
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