Most people hate Mondays. I don’t mind. For me they symbolize a new week of adventures and living life and laughing.
Wednesdays are my Monday equivalent.
I think about how it’s mid-week between classes, a repetitive pattern in which you know what to expect.
Last Wednesday,my first week of classes, I realized that Wednesday is a perfect day for spontaneous travel, seeing that I only have 1 morning class.
Why not explore Italy, take a train through Tuscany, pick towns and cities that have an interesting name?
Last Wednesday I looked at some train schedules and saw one that would leave in 1/2 hour, and stopp in a place called Poggibonsi. Sold, done deal.
I bought my bigliete de andate (I never buy ritorno too, because my travel is spontaneous and sporadic and who knows where I’ll end up at what time).
Looking out the window, sun peering through onto the Tuscan countryside, I realized no one knew my whereabouts. And then I realized that’s okay, they don’t need to. The “Why” isn’t something I feel like explaining to anyone but myself.
A drizzle began as I arrived in Poggibonsi. (As in my recent travels to Florence, Budapest, and Bruxelles). I really feel like that cartoon character with a raincloud over its head. I embrace it anyways.
My favourite way to explore a place is often “sans” map.
I didn’t have any set sights or expectations, I’ve found that this makes spontaneous travel unstressful (as it should be).
Be open minded.
After all, if you’re set on finding a specific place at a specific time, you’ll be all the more disappointed if you don’t find it. And you may miss something neat that was right nearby.
Arriving mid-afternoon, so most shops and cafes were closed, I walked up and up past piazzi, coloured houses, churches, belltowers, and bronze statues.
I then found myself on a trail up through the hills, hiking with birds’ chirps being the only audible sound, serenity.
Asking a local if it is aperto, he tells me no because people live there. As in it’s a hotel spot now… aren’t they the luckiest?!
From the top of the hill, I see a beautiful structure, reminding me of the Moorish architecture is Sevilla. I set out in search of it.
I find it to be a cemetery, can’t help but walk inside, drawn in, never having seen anything like it before. Flowers of every colour, every kind, burning candles and polished stone. I think the way a people treat their dead says a lot about the culture.
As the rain started up again I bought my return ticket home, paying attention to all the towns along the way as potential travels for all the future Wednesdays.
Oameni sono come le farfalle, alcuni sono presi, altri volano via