The decision to cancel was a no-brainer. I have no regrets nor do I feel sorry for myself. But I do feel the void. Yes, it has to do with Italy, but also with that feeling of deep satisfaction that comes with traveling alone.
Yesterday, however, I proved that solitary travel can be immediate, and only be for day, or even part of one. I hopped in the car and made the 35 minute drive to the Museum of Russian Icons. I thought of calling a friend, but chose to go on my own—so glad I did. During my hour and a half visit, I had the place almost entirely to myself. I was reminded of those early mornings alone in the Duomo in Florence before the first mass began.
I’m considering going to Maine for a few night. Or, perhaps I will be stay home and be a solitary traveler without traveling. Maybe it is only the solitude that is essential.