Category: Travel - A Cottage by the Sea

Off to Italy--9/21

9/18/2021

I haven’t been blogging much lately because I’ve been sitting quietly with plans to go to Italy. To go, or not to go, that was the question. I made the reservations in July for the simple reason is that if I didn’t make them, the trip would never happen. Duh! I know it is meant to be. Here’s why. ( Italy 9/27-10/11)
   In filling out a Passenger Locator Form for travel to Europe, I discovered that my Alitalia flights (partnered with Delta) had been cancelled, and that I hadn’t been notified. The only reason I found this out is because the form asked for the seat numbers of my flight: so I checked my reservation … no flight.
It took 25 minutes to reach a live Delta representative on the phone and then an hour with a very patient the representative to sort it all out. I settled on the best alternative to the original direct Boston-Rome flight that had been cancelled. UGH, now a layover. Much to decide, with no more than a minute to process. Should I fly to Atlanta to avoid a layover in Europe? No! Is an hour and a half layover at JFK from Boston enough time to board an international flight? No! Is a six and a half hour layover at JFK too long? Yes.
   I finally decided on Paris, where at least I can buy a croissant with really butter. I fly at 5:15 PM instead of 9:45PM, and will get to Rome at 11:25AM, about the same time as my original non-stop flight— time enough to take a train to Florence supper at the Piazza della Signoria.
   With all of this change of plans, the trip is still meant to be. A plus to all of this is the awesome view flying over the Alps. I have a window seat.

Be your own person

8/31/2021

There is power in solitude—not just physically and in terms of aloneness and silence—but in solitude of being one’s own person… Beverly Lanzetta
I came across this quote in the August 2021 newsletter of Raven’s Bread—in its mention of Lanzetta new book, The Monk Within: Embracing a Sacred Way of Life.

Hmm, being one’s own person! We like to think we are. Anyone of us ‘obsessed’ with solitude, can take some ownership in that. We introverts (actually I am right on the fulcrum of the introvert/extrovert continuum) must have a sense of being our own person, or else we’d be finding all kinds of excuses to spend more time with others. We don’t only wish we had the nerve to do things differently, we do them.
For example, I don’t just love the idea of travel alone, I do it. At the moment I am working on plans to go to Italy. I am vaccinated and I can wear a mask in Florence as easily as I can in Massachusetts. In myriad ways, Covid is calling us to be our own person. The challenge is not to infringe on another’s right to be their own person.

Solitude memories during the pandemic

11/25/2020

Take by my dad during our trip. NOT a picture of me.

I am feeling deeply content with my solitude these days. The pandemic has taken away the need for a calendar, and I love that. Oh, I have things to do and people to keep up with, but most of these lend themselves to solitude. And so, I’ve been thinking about how I loved those cottage days, with weekday after weekday to be filled by my whim.
But a new memory has appeared, of me, age 19 riding a bike along a country road in Norway. My parents, sister, and I were staying at an inn somewhere in the countryside and my parents had agreed that I could rent a bike and take a ride by myself. Looking back, this may be my first memory as a ‘adult’ of taking off independently. For years my parents had let me bike all over town, both alone and with friends, so that wasn’t new, but biking alone in a foreign country was. I remember talking with my parents about it and then encouraging myself to actually get on the bike and take off. I recall biking on a flat road along a lake and after a half hour or so deciding I’d better turn back so no one would worry about me. I, however, was not worried or afraid, and that freedom has remained with me throughout all my solitary travel.
What brought this memory forth, this memory which is now so visceral? I’ve been reading The Storm Sister, the second in a series by Lucinda Riley, about a young woman who searches for her roots in Norway. This has led me to start rereading (slowly, one chapter a day) Astrid & Veronika, by my absolute favorite author, Linda Olsson, about two women, one young, one old, each living alone in rural Sweden, who develop a friendship. Why these books? I come back full circle for this love of solitude.

Museum of Russian Icons: a travel alternative

3/2/2020

My decision to cancel my trip to Italy hasn’t wavered. The best deal I have from the airline is to pay a $175.00 cancellation fee (instead of the usual $300). I’m still pondering whether to take it or wait to see if they cancel the flight entirely. .
Meanwhile, as I hold onto vacation mode, alternative plans are brewing. As a start, I took a day last week to visit the Museum of Russian Icons in Clinton, MA. A jewel of place, with its art work, ambience, and free parking. With very few visitors, I felt like I was walking around alone in a beautiful sanctuary.
Friday, my flight date, I’m meeting my daughter before she picks up her son for college spring break. I’m considering a three night retreat and/or a few nights in Maine. Stay tuned.

Change of plans

2/26/2020

Due to the Coronavirus, I’ve cancelled my 3/6-3/20 trip to Italy. There is too much uncertainty: the healthy issue, and the possibility that I could get over there and then not get home easily. My idea of solitude does not include being sequestered at the Marriott Hotel at Logan Airport!
    Before I go on, let me acknowledge that I consider this disappointment not worth crying, complaining, or feeling sorry about. After all, it is my good fortune that has created it.
    That being said, how do we deal with disappointment when something we want and feel right about has been taken away? I have no control over the Coronavirus, but I can control what I do NOW in terms of my time and activity. For the past twenty years my solitary trips to Italy have been important stepping stones on my life journey.
   Now, what will I do during the two upcoming weeks? What will replace walking the streets of Rome and Florence, visiting the museums, and enjoying Italian cuisine? I don’t know. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I started cancelling my reservations. I do know, however, that what is before me is a combination of the choices I can make and the mystery and miracles of the unknown. Stay tuned.

Solitude in Italy--again

8/27/2019

My need for an extensive period of solitude is emerging just at the right time. I make my Italy plans at least four months before I think I’ll be ready for the change of pace, and then as the departure date looms, I always say, “Yes, it is time.”
    Don’t get me wrong. My wonderful life is full of solitude. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: one of the reasons I love getting off for two weeks of solitary travel is that I have good things in place in my life--friends and family, health, and church community. For many, the amount of solitude I have at home would be enough. But for some reason, I love the day after day of truly being alone.
     “You must meet interesting people when you travel,” a friend commented.
      “No, I don’t. Maybe once or twice I chat with someone at the table next to me at a restaurant, and every fall I spend one day either in Rome or Florence with long time friends. That’s about it.
      Off I go on September 11; six nights in Rome, and eight in Florence. Home on the 26th. Very grateful.

Rediscovering travel with Seth Kugel

5/23/2019

The other evening at the library I heard a delightful talk by Seth Kugel, the New York Times’s “Frugal Traveler” from 2010 to 2016 , and author of the recently published Rediscovering Travel: A Guide for the Globally Curious.
Seth writes as he talks, telling engaging stories, offering useful tips, and blurting out an array of valuable insights that whirl around in his hyperactive mind. Whatever our age, and however and wherever we travel, he suggests that we go off the well-beaten track and try something new.
Like me, Seth usually travels solo. Although I am a somewhat adventuress traveler, which of course one has to be when traveling alone, I’m inspired anew to wander off the tourist’s physical and psychological trampled-down path and rediscover the new and curious of Edinburgh (June 12-20). I’m ready and very grateful to be going.

Traveling solo v.v. with others

4/15/2019

IPhoto is back working thanks to the younger generation. I thought the cause of the breakdown was too many pictures, but no, ‘it just happens’. We’ve been on the move with little time for writing. Again, need I say it is very different having traveling companions.
• I go where I want on whim v.v. discussing plans ahead of time.
• I walk fast v.v adjusting to the pace of others.
• I walk with an intentional destination in mind v.v. stopping to window shop.
• I have no one to talk with v.v. chatting and pointing out sights.

Being a solo traveler isn’t better, it’s just different. I prefer solo unless it’s with people I love. That’s the way it is this week.

Vicarious and real joy~

4/4/2019

I’m sitting here in the AR (Angel Room), looking at a painting of the Duomo by my niece Amy Jennings, and anticipating that in 24 hours Jim will be driving me to the Logan Airport bus. I fly Dublin-Rome and take a train to Florence to spend ten days in the shadow of this awesome church.
Yesterday Jim announced how happy he was anticipating my trip, both for me and for him. “I get to travel vicariously when you go, and I know you love it so.”
How lucky am I? I get to give him joy by giving myself joy, and he gets to give me joy by doing the same for himself. This isn’t only about anticipating; it’s about cherishing the moment, which is all we really have, just moment after moment, Now after Now.

Travel vent~

9/21/2018

     The good thing about traveling alone is that you spend less time and energy venting about things that don’t go right. The bad thing about traveling alone is that you have no one to vent to when things don’t go right.
     Here’s my vent, to the computer, and to any of you readers who care to hear it. Of course by the time I post this I’ll be home, dealing in dollars not euros, and my vent will have lost its energy.
     But here it is. I had to pay 50 euro to check my suitcase from Florence to Paris. I assume that somewhere in the fine print on my ticket was the notification of this added expense but I was shocked, because up until now on overseas flights one bag flies for free. Evidently the rule has changed for inexpensive tickets, at least when the first leg of the flight is in Europe. (I wasn’t charge coming over here). I could have upgraded to business class for a mere $350.00 and then I assume my bag would have traveled free.
    Now that I’ve vented, let me confess that I am most fortunate and very grateful that I can afford a trip to Florence. And, let me admit that I’m glad to be home.