Monday, June 11, 2007

¨Un Paccheto di Marlboro Lights¨

One of my favourite phrases in the world.

A plane to Singapore, a plane to London, a coach to Gatwick, a plane to Bologna, a bus to the train station, a train to Arezzo. And then a hug with S, and a drive to a small Tuscan town called Sinalunga.

Girl On A Motorbike

And the next two days I ride on the back of his motorbike, around the backhills of Toscana. Bella Toscana. The wind swirling through my borrowed jacket, scented with wildflowers and hay and pecorino and later, rain. We have lunch in Montepulciano of antipasto and the most delicious pasta I have eaten, homemade parpadelle with porcini and truffles, with local Brunello. The next day we ride to the sea, to Castiglione della Pescaia and swim and sunbake on the beach. It´s the kind of beauty that makes me weep inside. He doesn´t want to swim so I jump on his back with my cold body. At the beach restaurant, with sandy feet, we share tomato risotto with seafood and then feast on fritto, white wine. For two days we ride the bends of small, small villages, in between vineyards and farms and the greens of Tuscany that are indescribable.

I think of A the first day I am on the bike. I think of riding on a bike with him, wondering if our thoughts ever cross, and snap myself out of it. It is time to live in the moment.

People ask me what expectation I have for seeing S, and it is hard to impart that there is none. I came to simply be an eagle soaring across the sun*. And I had a stillness inside me for two days, for two days with someone who is beautiful and crazy, sometimes I think not of this world. Definitely not of this world.

Ti voglio bene. In Between To Like And To Love

At the airport we smoke a goodbye, and I smoke to help the nausea, the intense desire to throw up at this feeling. Smoking is the only thing that helps.


Here D and I are in Madrid. It´s great fun. We drop our bags in the hostel and can´t believe it. We are too old for this shit. It seems like a good idea in the comfort of my loungeroom in a sauvignon blanc haze, but here, with bunk beds that creek when you blink and drainless bathrooms, we rebook future accommodation and go to enjoy our first tapas. Bars are everywhere, every street and every tiny lane. We wash down delicious raciones with half litres of beer before enormous fatigue hits us for the next 12 hours. Today, after coffee and churros we explored around Puerto del Sol, ate bocadillos with dark jamon, shopped a little then went to Fast Good, Ferran Adria´s cheap and cheerful cafe, and since I won´t be going to El Bulli anytime soon, I was bursting with excitement to come here. Hamburgers with chips and chocolate mousse in little glass jars, it is cult and delicious and we loved it. Very cool.

Eh bien, continuons. Besitos.

* Osho