Flight back to reality

Guess what?

My flight is an hour delayed, whilst I started to think about all the possibilities I have to get home at a decent time I thought I could dedicate some time to my blog!

With great surprise is a pleasure to be able to sit here, in the airport departure hall with a little bit of time for me to think about the past days. On Friday, my father drove me to Serravalle where took a train to come and visit my boyfriend towards the South of Italy. It is incredible how life here is always beautiful! They say is boring as fuck, because from their side there’s nothing to do, but I think is just great. I totally mean it! Friends gather together at the bar, probably just smoking cigarettes and gulping beers! But they are together, talking, exchanging stories, updating each other on their own life. People down here are so warm, there’s a genuine interest towards the individuals around you. Every time I come back is a feast! Makes my heart so full! It is such a great feeling to be surrounded by so many nice people! I can start calling them friends year after year; I was talking to my parents a few minutes ago and my mum told me: “ You should have gone a bit before, you always enjoy more there. “ This is not absolutely true. I deeply love my family, I love spending more time with them than anyone else, there was just a half-truth in what she said. I feel like every time I’m going back home there are less and fewer people I can relate to. The ones I can, for whom I truly feel blessed and grateful, are the ones that have their own lives and their things to carry on with and most of the times I’m more like little brackets in their days. Is sad times, seeing how life goes past you and is like you’ve been hibernated for a certain period of time.

Whilst here things seem never changing, people get together, they love each other. 
But… Friends are there every time and every day. People get really together when someone’s coming back. A table of 23 people, some of them haven’t seen each other in ages. But they are still there. This is so powerful. I’m sad I couldn’t be the one strongest enough to keep everyone stick together, although a time you can’t do anything with time and people’s minds, things get ruined, internal and behavioural fights start. 

I’m so glad I can witness still love and friendship around me and leaving my sweet troubled country with a big smile and happy to go back to what I can call a second home

I’m sitting here, I’ve probably said that already and I’m looking at the different people sitting around me, parents that are going to spend a week to cool down in London. English ladies and gents coming back home with their cute sandals all bronze and tanned reading their books. And us Italian are the least quiet. Kids have their noses glued to the window to try to trace the aeroplane. A massive petrol tank drives at full speed on the airstrip, people - most Italians - move towards the gate windows of this little and provincial airport to see what is going on outside, “flight is delayed and is not gonna change” I think. Everyone makes me feel like I’m actually missing something out being here and writing instead that looking around and being curious. I love this country I love the populate it, but how hard it is to even think to come back, when your life is slowly, slowly going towards somewhere?


Gotta check that window out now… :)
Nic X


















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