Benvenuto Bellissimas: Week Two on Lake Como

Amie and Erica were the first of the girls to arrive to the beautiful, sunny Lake Como! Whilst my Dad and I did the airport run, his girlfriend prepared a delicious lunch spread which was ready for us in the garden upon our return. We were completely spoilt with a wide selection of cheese, salami, bread and salad, of course accompanied with a bottle of red wine. Welcome to Italy.

Having not seen the girls for almost a week we had lots to catch up on but we wasted no time in getting out onto the lake. Usually in August the water is warm enough to swim in but as the weather has been terrible for most of the summer, it’s still freezing cold. Therefore, rather than dive in we jumped into the boats and threw our feet overboard whenever it got too hot. My performance had improved significantly since my last attempt but this time it was Erica paddling in circles. Nevertheless, we eventually made it to the ‘James Bond Villa’ in the next village to sneak a peek of the gardens in which Casino Royale was filmed.  

After all of our hard work, we felt we deserved a drink so drove to a bar in the mountain with a beautiful view of the castle on the lake. My Dad explained that it’s tradition in Italy to precede a meal with an alcoholic beverage. Italians call it an aperitivo which in English translates to apperitif (or ‘posh pre-lash' according to Amie Horne.) Anyway, we stuck with the Italian theme and ordered an Aperol Spriz each before heading down for dinner. There we learnt that an aperitivo is followed by a digestivo, a drink consumed after meals to help with digestion. It seems Italians have a drink to suit every hour of the day.

The following morning, we travelled across the border and into Switzerland. A new country deserves a new post so you can read all about our Swiss adventures here. By the evening, however, we were back in Italy but cooking Thai for my dad and Stefania (keeping it international!) Usually I would hate to waste an Italian meal by choosing a different cuisine but I said I’d cook and didn't want to embarrass myself by trying to compete with Stefania’s skills. At least with Thai there was a chance they wouldn’t know what it was supposed to taste like! In fact, they both insisted they thoroughly enjoyed it but we did go through a lot of wine.

The week was already flying by far too quickly and we hadn’t yet addressed Amie’s adversity to ice cream. Though she’s always claimed to not be bothered by it, I was convinced Italian gelato could change her mind. Whilst exploring the market in Lenno on Wednesday we needed refueling and therefore, found the perfect excuse to give it a try. We all opted for pistaccio which of course we all absolutely loved! Unlike ice cream back home which is often rather watery, Italian gelato is deliciously creamy and genuinely tastes like the flavour it represents. 

In the afternoon it clouded over and so it felt cool enough to venture off on a bike ride. The three of us cycled along to Menaggio where we stopped for a drink (a mid-afternoon-ivo?) and then challenged one another to a round of crazy golf. I’ve been playing on this same course ever since I can remember but even experience couldn’t help me that day. I was so terrible in fact, that there were moments when I almost lost the ball to the lake! All this daytime drinking must be taking its toll. 

In the evening, Stefy rustled up an incredible pasta dish with mushrooms which they’d picked from the mountains that morning. In Northern Italy, mushroom picking is practically a sport and they’ll wake up in the early hours of the morning to beat one another to the best finds. One day I would love to join them but I need to know a little more about mushrooms first; the wrong ones can do some serious damage! 

After dinner we walked up into the village for a drink at the bar. The rest of the evening involved many amarettos, a Colombian bar lady who spoke a bizarre language which was neither Italian nor Spanish, and a man claiming that we’d seen him naked in the lake. When my teeth felt furry, it was time to go home.

With the beautiful sunshine back out in full force, the next few days involved a lot of sunbathing. Before we knew it, it was time to pick up Kate, our bellissima number four! We took her straight from the airport to the pizzeria and then back to the house to try our limoncello cheesecake creation for dessert. It sounded like heaven but looked like shit and tasted somewhere between the two. It turns out missing out an essential ingredient is not okay, even in Italy.

Luckily for Kate, that wasn’t her only surprise. The next morning we were planning a trip up the Legnone! Though we had to wake up at six o’clock (a terrible way to start a should-be relaxing holiday), we knew the end result would be worth the struggle. When I say we, I mean Kate, Erica and I who have done plenty of treks throughout our travels in the past year. Amie, on the other hand, was not so sure.

In all honesty, my own faith began to waiver as we climbed for two hours and saw very little; though the weather was stunning down by the lake, a thousand metres up, we were fighting through fog. It was a nice climb but it wasn’t easy and without the reward of a fabulous view, I was worried it may be anti-climactic. Still, we trudged on and just as we reached the steep, rocky terrain, the mist finally began to clear and the peaks of the Swiss alps reared their heads above the cloud. 

The final stretch to the summit was almost vertical and required some pretty epic rock climbing. Though we initially clung onto the wire which has been installed, we soon realised it had snapped in multiple places and that we'd be far safer to rely on our own strength. Whilst we concentrated hard on keeping our footing, the beauty crept up around us. We were just a few a metres from the peak when we stopped and realised that we were completely surrounded by stunning views. From above the clouds, it felt as though we were gazing down on another world entirely. However, even from this height it all looked familiar; the tiny houses of the settlements in the mountains and the vast lake now glistening in the sun. It was indescribably beautiful. Even Amie 'Are-We-There-Yet?' Horne was lost for words!

By the time we reached the very top, we'd all found our voices (though 'woooo' was all we could manage at first.) For some of the girls, it was the highest they've ever been and in their words exactly it felt 'fantastico!' We literally were on top of the world. 

To our surprise though, we weren't the only ones! We were met by a dozen or so mountain goats who were delighted to see us. However, as soon as they realised we had no food they took to licking our skin instead, presumably soaking up the salt. They quickly concluded that my dad was the gourmet option which was unfortunate for him but hilarious for us. As if he wasn't exhausted enough, he then had to fend off an entire herd whilst we very helpfully took a thousand photographs. 

Eight hours after we'd initially set off, we climbed into the car and slept the whole way home. Back in the village we were still weary but triumphant and ready for a gigantic pizza as a well deserved prize. Dinners in Italy are always a grand affair but we kept this one relatively quiet as we were leaving for Venice at five o'clock the next morning to start the next section of the  Italian adventure. 

Lake Life: Lago di Como

It’s true that there really is no place like home and I'm fortunate enough to have two of them. Whilst I've lived most of my life on the outskirts of London, my dad was born and raised on the Lake Como and has now retired back to the village in which he grew up. When I say 'on the lake' I mean it literally. The family house is less than a few steps from the water's edge and each time I wake up to that beautiful view, I wonder how on earth I've resisted relocating myself. 

When I was younger we'd spend entire summers on the lake and so this place holds hundreds of happy memories for me. However it's only in more recent years that I've come to truly appreciate its beauty. Whilst as a child I’d judged the place purely based on its potential for activity, I now find that admiring the stunning scenery has become a full time activity in itself. 

It was late when we stepped off the train from Rome but even through the darkness I could sense we were home. The evening air was refreshingly cool and the scent of the lake was brought to me through the breeze. Breathing in deeply, I felt my chest slowly rise and a calming smile spread across my cheeks. Lago di Como; home. 

Whilst the rest of the world accelerates forwards, life on Lake Como maintains its slow pace. From the cracked paint of the terracotta houses, to the ice-cream flavours sold at the only gelateria in town; nothing here ever changes. It’s been a whole year since I visited last but I don’t expect any surprises. Fabio will still be conjuring his magic in the stone oven pizzeria; Franco will still be serving limoncellos at the bar. (It’s for this reason these establishments aren’t known as their real names. They’re not Creme Caramel or Zanzibar; they’re Fabio’s and Franco’s.)

Perhaps if things were different I wouldn’t feel so at home. Certainly, when I left London for a year I returned as an alien but I’m confident that with Lake Como, even after a decade I’d slot straight back in. There’s a real comfort in knowing there’s somewhere you’ll always belong. 

The next morning I couldn't wait to draw back the curtains and take my first look at the lake glistening in the sunshine. The mountains which surround it are just as beautiful, standing grandly like a fortress which protects the hamlets within. Though fearsome to some, they're familiar to me and I love to stare up at them, wondering all the time who may be gazing back. 

To my horror, it was raining! My dad had warned me that they'd had the worst summer on record but my mind had refused to make the connection between this place and rain. However, whether it was my persistent positive thinking or simply a stroke of luck, it had cleared by lunch time and the forecast had changed to show a warm few days ahead. Thank goodness; the whole world is a lot prettier with a little bit of sunshine. 

Making the most of the improvement in weather, we marched straight outside and walked up to Campo, my dad's small farm up in the mountain. Each year I visit, there seem to be new animals around and this time it was two tiny kittens which came bounding down the hillside like bunny rabbits as soon as they saw us at the gates. They're abnormally small but absolutely gorgeous and I immediately abandoned all ideas of helping my dad, to stop and play with my new friends for an hour. 

From high up on the hillside, the view from Campo is simply stunning. There's a house up there which is currently uninhabitable but is another item on the Pelizzari project list. One day when the road reaches our patch of land, I would love to open a B&B. In reality it will require a lot of hard work but at the moment I have the perfect vision; serving breakfast on the terrace overlooking the lake, with fresh fruit from the garden, eggs from the chickens and strong Italian coffee to start every day. 

Back down at lake level (and with my head out the clouds), we took the kayaks out for a spin. Unfortunately, I spun far more than I intended! Even when the lake is calm, it’s difficult to keep the boats straight and I found a special talent for turning around. Eventually, however, I seemed to grasp the hang of it and we paddled all the way into the next village. Though a bit of work out, it was still incredibly relaxing as we stopped regularly to admire the beautiful villas along the lake front.

That evening we realised that I’d been in Italy for five days and had not yet had a pizza; such shameful behaviour had to be fixed! Fortunately for us, the best pizza in the whole of Italy (all biases aside) can be found at the restaurant two minutes from our house.  This guy really is something else. The pizzas he serves are the largest I’ve ever seen and yet we still always come away wanting more. They’re so, so delicious and a fraction of the price of good pizza in London (if such a thing even really exists.)

One of the most wonderful things about Italy is that I can justify eating three massive meals a day, not only because the food is too good not to, but also because it can be easily counteracted with a beautiful walk, cycle, swim or row in the great outdoors! This week we chose to climb Mount Grona which is a relatively easy hike to the 1,736 metre peak.

Even from midway up, it offers breathtaking views out across the lake and the villages below. Through our binoculars, we could make out the road above our house and even see people (which we presumably know) sitting outside at the bar. Fortunately we took a few photographs at this level because by the time we reached the top we’d become completely engulfed within a cloud. Though we should have been able to see for miles around, we were faced with nothing but a wall of white. Nevertheless, we were pleased to have made it and cracked out the hip flask for a celebratory swig.

My first few days on Lake Como have been amazing and I’m so thankful to have another two weeks left to go. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ll have spent more than a few days here and I’m looking forward to settling properly into life on the lake. To make it even more exciting, some of the girls are flying out to join me and I can’t wait to share this loveliness with them!

When in Rome

With a name like Chiara Pelizzari it was almost embarassing to admit that I’d never been to Rome. Though my Dad is Italian and I’ve visited Italy more times than I can count, I’d not once made it as far as the country’s capital. It has always been something which I thought I should fix but it wasn’t until my year away, whilst we were learning the heritage behind all sorts of other places, that it suddenly became imperative to understand my own.

My flight arrived late in the evening so it was difficult to form an immediate first impression of Rome aside from my swanky hotel room that my Dad and his partner had booked. It was amazing but of course I was keen to see the real city as soon as possible so we woke up bright and early the following morning.

Wandering through the streets of Rome is like being in an enormous open air museum, as ancient ruins appear around every corner. Some are found deep within excavated crevices whilst others sit high up on the hills where more modern constructions have been built atop them. To give you an idea, we passed one block of red brick flats which use the old archways of a Roman amphitheatre as their basement garages! It’s incredible the way that architects have incorporated these ruins into the modern day city, maintaining the connection between today’s locals and their ancestral roots.

The other aspect of Rome which instantaneously hit me was the sheer number of churches throughout the town. There are of course the famous few but in fact, there seems to be one on every single street! I find it completely baffling how this ever came about.  At what point, when there were already close to a thousand churches, did somebody think: ‘Oh I know what this city needs; another church!’ What’s more is that the churches of Rome are unlike any others found throughout the world. Each one has a grand air of extravagance about it with high ceilings coated in gold, and masterpieces covering the outer walls. The first church we entered casually had a Caravaggio painting hanging inside; an artist which you’d otherwise pay hefty entrance fees to see in a gallery.

On our way to the Colosseum we passed the Trevi Fountain which is usually an iconic part of the city. Sadly, however, it was under reconstruction and so we could barely make out the statues beneath the scaffolding. Nevertheless, I threw in a coin over my left shoulder, which if the legend is to be believed, will ensure that this won’t be my last visit to Rome. Magic or no magic, the Trevi fountain has kind of ensured that anyway as I feel I must return one day to see it in all its glory.

After some interesting navigating (using a map as old as my dad) we eventually stumbled across the Colosseum. Of course I’ve seen it a hundred times before in photographs but being in its presence was entirely different. I was truly taken aback by its size which is impressive even now but back when it was built, must have been completely incomprehensible. 

Gazing out across the Colosseum from inside its walls, it was suddenly much easier to piece together how it would have looked all those centuries ago. Something about being there set light to my imagination and I could see the gladiators, sense the death and hear the uproar from the thousands in the stands. It’s despicable what went on here, and yet after seeing it for myself I can understand how crowds could have been swept up in the excitement, allowing themselves to be overwhelmed by the games.

Having marched through Rome for most of the morning, it was more than time for lunch! We were spoilt for choice in terms of brilliant restaurants but we always find that the very best are those off the beaten track, hidden away down narrow lanes and little side streets. In the end we followed our noses and settled for one which smelt incredible and had a great outside area for dining alfresco. It was barely midday but we ordered a round of refreshing apperitivi to start and a carafe of wine to accompany the meal.

Rome is famous amongst Italians for its brilliant pasta and although we realized we’d picked perhaps the only restaurant in the area which was in fact Sardinian, the food was excellent. So excellent, that we were still ordering and eating three hours later. I’m not sure how many carafes of wine we went through but by the time we stood up again we were most definitely drunk. When in Rome, right?

That said, there was still more sightseeing to be done so we staggered off in search of an ice cream to sober us up. Still a little tipsy, it didn’t feel right to be roaming around churches so we soon abandoned the centre of town and climbed to the top of the Pincio Hill for sunset. Having only finished lunch at four o’clock, Stefy and I weren’t hungry but we stopped off on the way back so that my dad could somehow squeeze in dinner. I ordered a hot chocolate, stupidly forgetting that in Italy this translates to 'giant mug of thick melted chocolate’ so in the end, I may as well have had a three course meal.

We turned in relatively early that evening which was rather fortunate as the next morning we were awake early on an unintentional but highly energetic power walk through Rome! We’d booked tickets to enter the Vatican City so that we could skip the queues but it was further than we thought and we were concerned about missing our slot. In the thirty degree heat, the frantic journey there wasn’t exactly a highlight of my trip but once we arrived it was completely worth it.

The inside of the Vatican is essentially an enormous museum which showcases everything ever donated to the Church. This includes artifacts from ancient Egypt, grand Roman sculptures and incredible works of art which in some cases, cover entire wings. You need to be in the right frame of mind to take it all in and truly appreciate what’s in front of you. After endless rooms of old pots and coins, it would be easy to zone out but I kept reminding myself that there’s a story behind every item. With that in mind, what might otherwise have been a mundane rock with a lost language inscribed became a letter once written to a loved one, with a message so important the author spent hours laboriously carving each word into the stone.

The Rafael Rooms were amongst my favourite sections. This young artist spent up to four years just painting one room and did such an amazing job that he was continually commissioned to do more! Along one hallway, another artist has transformed the long walls into maps of Italy that are so accurate they even include tiny villages such as my Dad’s on Lake Como. It may not sound particularly fascinating but if you consider the timing of this project, it’s incredibly impressive. There weren’t any satellites or Google Maps to copy from! Someone would have to physically have travelled to these places, keeping a track of their route before putting it onto paper.

The more exhibitions we passed through, the more apparent it became that the wealth of this church is simply insane. One room alone could abolish world hunger! It’s an odd concept and one which I’m still trying to get my head around.

In the lead up to the Sistene Chapel, there are a couple of small showcases of contemporary and modern art. Usually I’m a big fan of more abstract pieces but having just spent the last hour with the likes of Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, it was a little difficult to show any real interest.

After another fabulous lunch we wandered over to Piazza de S. Pietro which is of course where the famous Basilica is found. The square is surrounded by dozens of white columns, each topped with a sculpture of a historic figure. Unfortunately these noble Romans were greatly outnumbered by tourists and the queue to enter the Basilica was ridiculously long. Not wanting to stand for three hours in the heat, we admitted defeat and made a mental note to ensure I see it next time. 

So what to do instead? Before I left I asked a good friend of mine who lived in Rome for a year what I should do whilst here. She told me that her favourite building was the Pantheon which is indeed beautiful but later went onto explain that it’s situated near to the best gelateria in the whole of Italy, hence it being on her list of must sees! This unbelievable little place had over one hundred and fifty flavours of ice cream and was so cheap, I felt like trying every single one. Arguably Italy is as famous for its ice cream as it is its Roman ruins, so really I was just being cultured.

Our last supper in Rome was at an another superb back street restaurant and again involved an awful lot of wine. It was great to reminisce on our favourite parts and plan out how we’d spend our final morning. We decided it would be best to head over to Tiber Island and take a look at the richest part of the wealthiest city in Italy. It’s only a small area and we ended up wandering into the Jewish Ghetto which is situated just behind and a drastic contrast. It’s sad to see that there are so many police stationed there because even today there is still often trouble with backwards thinking people who are racist for no reason.

In three days we packed in a lot but still only touched the surface of what there is to see in Rome. Of course I hope to return one day, and if the Trevi Fountain keeps its promise that shouldn’t be a problem! Let’s just hope it doesn’t take me another twenty four years.

A Mini-Break to Bruges

The welcome home balloons had barely touched the ground and I was already packing for my next adventure: this time, Belgium! 

In just four hours, we'd driven down to the coast, crossed the channel and arrived in the beautiful town of Bruges, famous for chocolate, beer and its fairytale buildings. Though it was incredibly easy to arrive by car, Bruges itself is better suited to bicycles so we swapped onto two wheels and pedalled off to explore. 

By following the canal, we soon spotted the centre of town which is rather difficult to miss with its rapunzel-like towers and sleeping beauty spires piercing the sky above the cobbled streets. Every other shop is a chocolatier and as many offer out free samples to taste, it would have been rude not to stop and try. In one particularly sweet-smelling store, we picked out a praline truffle each for the road. However, at the till we were told there was a minimum purchase of one hundred grams; such a terrible shame to be forced to buy more! 

The weather forecast for the next few days was a little ropey so we decided to take advantage of the current sunshine and join a boat cruise along the river. For the next half hour we glided through the water, ducking under the low bridges and listening to the guide as he pointed out all the important parts of town. The canal runs behind many of the houses so it's a fantastic way to gain a closer look at the lives of the locals. For the larger and rather more impressive buildings, however, we had to travel by foot. 

My favourite structure of all was the town hall at the heart of Burg Square. It's a lot to take in but my eyes were immediately drawn to the ancient crests which hang boldly at the belly of the building. These medieval emblems appear to belong to a fantasy world and will no doubt have inspired many such a tale over the years. By night, this architectural masterpiece can be a little daunting due to its sheer size and gothic style but during the day, when the sunlight catches its golden edges, it gives off an entirely different impression. Whilst it retains an air of mystery, it becomes light and inviting as though beckoning you in to indulge in its magic.

Back at our bed and breakfast the indulgence continued as we enjoyed all sorts of little luxuries. The setting was idyllic and the house itself was beautiful; vintage chic with everything we could possibly dream of needing for a splendid few days away. 

After a pot of tea and a heavenly bubble bath (bearing in mind, of course, that I'm still getting used to even having hot water!) we cycled back towards town to find ourselves some dinner. There were dozens of places to choose from but eating out in Bruges is not cheap and my heart dropped when I saw the menus showcased proudly in restaurant windows (bearing in mind again, that I've been paying no more than three dollars for three courses.) However, I soon realised this could work in my favour for it made a diet of chocolate truffles and Belgian street waffles entirely acceptable for the next three days. With that in mind, I felt better about splashing out for this one evening and so ordered a full plate of Flemish croquettes. 

The following morning I made a remarkable discovery; a treat I like more than Nutella! As we sat down to a dreamy breakfast of eggs, fruit, ham, cheese, bread and pastries I noticed the latter was accompanied by a number of spreads. Naturally I reached for the Nutella first but later another caught my eye. Though it was identical to crunchy peanut butter both in colour and consistency, it smelt more like caramel biscuits. And that's exactly what it was! Speculoos, as it is now known, was first introduced on a Dragon's Den style television programme by a Belgian mother who had grown tired of the mess her kids would make when they dipped caramel biscuits into hot drinks to turn them into a spreadable substance. Nowadays, it's the country's most popular spread and I'm delighted to discover that it has made its way across the channel too (and not only in my backpack!) It truly is one of the best things I've ever tasted. 

Anyway, after seeing off an entire glassful of the stuff, we decided it would be wise to counter it with some cycling. The lady at our B&B had recommended we visit Damme, a quaint little town only eight kilometres away. As it was a beautiful morning, it seemed to be the perfect plan. 

However, minutes into the journey dark clouds begin to form and we were soon pedalling frantically to find cover from the rain. Fortunately, we were passing alongside the edge of Bruges and so took cover beneath the large archways in the fortresses which surround the centre. There we waited patiently until it began to clear. 

Sadly though, that was not the end of it and the next time the heavens opened, we weren't so lucky. Though less than a kilometre from our destination at this point, we were on a long, seemingly endless stretch of road. With the river on one side and an open field on the other, we were left with absolutely nowhere to hide. Instead we dismounted the bikes and crouched under an umbrella in an attempt to stay dry but without much success. Twenty minutes later we were still in exactly the same position, only considerably more wet and it became apparent that we wouldn't enjoy ourselves in these soggy conditions. Therefore, by the time it had stopped we'd abandoned our plans to reach Damme by bike, deciding instead to turn back, dry off, and then drive there in the evening. 

Half an hour, two hot chocolates and a hairdryer later, we were ready to face the world again. Miraculously, the sun had returned so we joined a free walking tour in Bruges which I'd found online for backpackers. The guide was a quirky American kid but his public speaking left a lot to be desired. Nevertheless, I learnt some interesting truths about the city, such as they would once use the canal to trap unwanted visitors, and that their church contains a holy cloth believed to be stained with the blood of Christ. The holy cloth is so important to the locals that they host an annual festival every year during which the sacred cloth is paraded around town. The tour's last stop was at a Belgian beer tasting bar but sadly for me, it doesn't matter where it's from or how famous it is; I really do just hate beer!  

Damme, as it turns out, was worth all the effort. When we returned in the evening by car, we found a gorgeous little town which was similar to Bruges but with even more character. The road leading to it is lined with traditional windmills which you'd expect to find throughout Holland. As a result we were hardly surprised to find out that we were very near to the Dutch border and had we carried on cycling that morning, we'd have eventually reached it. After a delicious dinner in Damme, we returned to Bruges in search of Speculoos ice cream which was entirely unnecessary but incredible nonetheless. 

By our third and final day we felt we'd covered a lot of Bruges but still had places left on our list. Being short of time we decided the best way to say we'd seen it all would be to climb the Belfry tower and view the entire city from above. Though you wouldn't notice unless you were told, the Belfry tower leans a whole metre to the right so trekking up to the top was a little unnerving. However, the grand bells which hang throughout the centre are a great distraction, particularly when they sound on every quarter hour. 

Walking the 366 had worked us up an appetite so as soon as we were down we grabbed a Belgian bratwurst and bonita from the street food vans which we'd spotted from above. Though absolutely delicious we were left a little dissatisfied and it was obvious why; on our last day in Bruges, we just had to have chocolate. 

With watering mouths, we entered our final stop of the trip: The Chocostory Chocolate museum. Here, we read up on the entire history of chocolate from it's first discovery to how we see it now in shops. I was fascinated to learn that chocolate was once used as currency, and later as medicine. In even earlier days, it was believed to be the sacred drink of Gods! It's comforting to know that there have always been those who appreciate its value as much as I. 

The tour ended with a demonstration of how to create the perfect truffles. The chocolatier was very impressive, flitting between English, French, Dutch and Flemish to explain to everyone how dark, milk and white chocolate is made (though he stressed that the latter is in fact not chocolate at all!) The best part of the demonstration, however, was getting to taste the truffles at the end. I ate one and added another to my mountain collection of chocolates to take home.

Sadly it was then time to actually go home so we piled everything into the car and sped back off through France. Bruges was the perfect European getaway with a great balance of culture and fun. Though it feels a world away from London, it can be reached in just a few hours so whether you have a week's holiday or a long weekend, I'd recommend Bruges to absolutely everyone. 

Home Sweet/Strange/Super Home

I loved writing this blog and it's great to know that so many others have loved reading it. Though I had no intention of continuing to post after my big trip, I had every intention of continuing to travel, so why not keep it up? 

I'll start with home. The strangest part of coming home was how much I enjoyed it. I really thought that after such a remarkable experience around the world, England just wouldn't do it for me. But I was wrong; my first few weeks have been non-stop amazing.

Though this has largely been down to my incredible friends and family, I think I've found a whole new appreciation for England as a country too. First off it was the efficiency of everything which made me smile; meals served at the same time, buses arriving when they're supposed to, crossing a road without risking your life. I can't say I exactly missed these luxuries whilst tackling the uselessness of all things South American, but I'm not complaining about having them back either. For now at least, it's nice to be able to rely on the promises of a country which has so much promise! 

Considering we're such a tiny little island, England makes a pretty awesome attempt at having almost everything. In Berkshire where I grew up, you feel as though you're in the midst of the countryside, lost amongst endless rows of fields and yet if you follow them for a few minutes, you'll find yourself in town. A few miles more, and you'll end up in London!

For years I could never understand why tourists would come to London for a holiday but now I completely get it. There's no other city like it which is so rich in culture but has successfully combined its old, authentic roots with new, quirky and modern fixtures. The fusion between the two makes it absolutely fascinating and I can now amuse myself for hours simply wandering from place to place, allowing that spectacular skyline to sink in. 

And whilst the rest of England might have everything, London redefines the very meaning of the word by continually expanding the realms of possibility. Pop-up shops, spinning restaurants, rooftop golf, an artificial beach; if you've imagined it, London's installed it. Though it could quite easily have counted on the glory of its classic attractions, it has taken a rather different stance and instead experiments with new innovations to capture the curiosity of future crowds.

Above all though, London emanates hope. Few other cities are so overwhelmed with opportunity and I'm thankful to have been born in a country which has allowed me to achieve so much not only within it, but elsewhere in the world too. In the wonderful words of Jamie Cullen:

 'You know the sunlight always shines,

Behind the clouds of London skies'. 

Even on the greyest of days, England is bright, beautiful and full of hope, and I feel very fortunate to call it home. 

That said, home will always be here so I'm making the most of my last month of freedom by travelling a little around the rest of Europe. Two weeks was the perfect length of time to catch up with loved ones and secure a job back in London and now I'm off to explore the continent!

The Epilogue: A Traveller's Tales

Travel. It's an idea which so many of us dream of and yet so few people go ahead and make it a reality. If you're waiting for a good time to go, don't. There will never be one and you'll never leave. In fact, the longer you put it off, the more reasons you'll find for why it's a terrible time. Remember that boyfriend, that flat and that job you had tying you down in your twenties? Well all of a sudden they've become a husband, a mortgage and a baby which from what I hear, are considerably harder to negotiate with.

Travel. We met so many people along our way who have never had the chance to leave their hometown but my bets are that if you're reading this, you aren't one of them. This time last year when I'd just booked my tickets, I was overwhelmed by friends telling me how lucky I was. But whilst I'm very lucky to have grown up in a stable family in a stable country with plenty of opportunity, in the context of my friends who all have the same thing, luck played no part. We're in the same boat here and if you want to make travelling your priority, all you need to do is begin to live within or beneath your means; shop less, drink less and be mindful of putting your money towards things which are genuinely important for you. Do this and you'll soon find you have more than enough money to fund yourself for a few months away.
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Travel. So why should you make it your priority? You know the quote: Life is a book and those who don't travel only read the first page. Well, as cringe and as cliché as it might sound, I've never heard a truer word. There's an entire world out there that's waiting to be discovered so why limit yourself to just one side? Go and explore the unknown; try new foods, dance to new music, meet new people and immerse yourself in entirely new cultures. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it but how do you know until you've tried?


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Travel. Break free from your bubble, disrupt your routine and allow yourself to really live. Travelling's not about escaping life or even necessarily changing it, rather just taking a time out to sit back and acknowledge how wonderful it is. Because it really is! Rid yourself of the negatives, detox the dramas and all you're left with is stacks of potential for amazing opportunities. Life should be enjoyed, not just endured but when you become too used to the same routine, it's easy to glaze over the every day wonders and let weeks pass by unappreciated. On the contrary when you have the freedom to make every day remarkable, it's astounding the things you'll come up with to make that happen.
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Travel. Of course there are hard times. There's nothing fun about lugging your twenty kilo backpack on two sunburnt shoulders through blistering heat, in search of a hostel that potentially doesn't exist. Make no mistake, this is not a year long holiday. But these difficult and challenging times are all part of the experience and we often found that we willingly brought them upon ourselves. We hiked up volcanoes, trekked through mountains and spent thirty hours on a long haul bus, each time knowing that it would make us a better and stronger person. Now, whenever I'm fed up or struggling with a task, I need only to say to myself: Chiara, you climbed Rinjani, and all of a sudden I find an extra bit of strength. I'll carry that with me forever; I can do it, I've overcome worse.

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Travel. The most important thing to remember about those difficult times is that they're never served without a slice of perspective on the side. Faced with that big, wide world, your own problems and in fact your entire being suddenly seem incredibly small; not only in size but severity too. When you've witnessed how the other half live, your idea of 'difficult' really starts to shift. Who are we to complain about being tired when there are children wandering the streets at eleven o'clock at night begging for food? Or pregnant women up at the crack of dawn walking for four hours to the nearest village for water? Looking at your life through travel tinted glasses, it seems pretty peachy even at its worst. First world pains aren't pains at all; they're not even pin pricks on the grand scheme of things so whatever happens, I now know I've got a pretty good deal. 
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Travel. Perhaps the most amazing discovery throughout my travels, is how people with a crap deal cope regardless. Try telling the kids playing soccer with a coconut that they're supposed to be miserable. Or the families dancing in the street that they shouldn't have the energy. Watching others enjoy life against all odds has been a real eye opener to the fact that we're all responsible for our own happiness. There was a point where I worried that I'd never be happy returning to a gloomy London, but it's inspiring to now know that as human beings, we can make happiness happen anywhere. 



So travel. It makes you a better person, your world a better place, and your dinner party anecdotes a lot more diverse. Travel now, travel far, travel hard, just travel! There will be plenty of time for thinking later. 

The Adventure's End #GoneGlobal

Ten months.

Eighteen countries.

Ninety eight places.

One hundred and one blog posts.

And all of a sudden I feel lost for words. 

We're flying home today.

Home.

Today.

My current state can only be described as one massive mess of confusion and conflict. Excited, sad, desperate, devastated, nostalgic, inspired; overwhelmed. 

Such an epic journey deserves a proper end and I hope to use this thirteen hour flight to collect my thoughts properly and do just that.

But for now, all I'll say is this:

It has been incredible.

I hope I have done it justice. 

And I'll see you all tomorrow...!!