Travel tale #6: A summer like before

Reflections and scenes from a lively summer

As an adult, it’s hard to feel the magic of summer still, with modest holiday days to be spread across the year; with work and worries that stay on the mind; with a budget to be mindful of. But in the last month, I have felt this childlike magic; this sense of unending, relentless adventure — so much so that it has kept me in the world and off the page.

Paris was different this summer. The city came alive with the Olympics, with all the beauty of ambition and unity, and I was here to witness it. I saw the impressive fireworks on Bastille Day, bursting with Olympic-sized intention; I shouted in a crowd as we watched a man run past with the Olympic torch; I stood outside in the rain to see the opening ceremony on a giant screen. My younger brother came to visit, and we traced a journey from Lille, to Bordeaux, and back to Paris, watching basketball, football, and athletics along the way. In the audience, we screamed support for our country and for others we had adopted. But we did so much more. We walked the streets of Vieux-Lille, taking in its colourful architecture and eating on restaurant terraces that lined the cobbled streets. In Bordeaux, we marvelled at the changing images at Les Bassins des Lumières. We passed moments in an eco-friendly space called Darwin, which was filled with wonderful street art. We cycled a lot, first on a tour through the generous city, taking in all its sites; and then through the lush, lined vineyards of Saint-Émilion, stopping a couple of times to swirl wines in our mouths. In Paris, we ate and walked our way through the city, discovering tastes and places, which felt new to me, because I was experiencing them with my brother. And perhaps that’s what made it most like summer— having my brother here (he was an essential component of my childhood summers, after all); both of us trying to be unburdened by the realities of our daily lives; both open to discovery and to movement. I got to see many other loved ones, and that made me feel full, as we made our way to London for a weekend, and I gorged on moments with close friends and family, catching up and celebrating.

Somewhere in the middle of this, I was in Italy for a week, on a dizzying schedule that had me in Como, Milan, Rome, Cefalù and Palermo. It was a lot for such a short time, and my body almost fought me for it, but it was a true feast for the senses. In Como, I was overcome by the beauty of the lake, with the stately homes and hotels stacked on its hills. I went on a ferry, watching the lapping of the water which reflected a lush emerald green in some places; watching the speed boats sailing past. My stay in Milan was brief — only long enough to be impressed by the majesty of the Duomo, to marvel at the detail, the beauty of it. In Rome, I was overcome by memories, reliving spaces I had seen eight years before, on the back of a vespa as I had been then as well, eating gelato from the same places, of the same flavours (rice, from Giolitti, which sent me back in time.) In Cefalù, I submerged my body in the water, grateful for that outlet in the scorching heat, finding space next to hundreds of others who were doing the same. In Palermo, I was taken by the realness of the city— home to so many locals, but also home to numerous churches and stunning architecture. The city was mostly covered in a creamy yellow, with bursts of other colours coming from shops and granita sellers. And everywhere in Italy, I ate. I ate so much that I had to make a promise to myself afterwards. I tried new things like gelato in brioche, a Sicilian tradition that had me licking and chewing simultaneously; sardine pasta and pistachio pizza; or the simple yet very effective cacio e pepe. 

I also experienced other elements of a summer from my youth— Like the lightness that fills most encounters; like the questions that summer brings and hopefully other seasons answer. Summer is made more precious, more urgent, by the knowledge that it is finite. Like my dad says, “all good things must come to an end”. And for me, summer is over now. There are very real things I must attend to, and I feel something akin to the terror mixed with excitement on the eve of a return to school. I’m returning to my life; to a sense of routine and consciousness of my body and its limits; to a need to achieve things and reach milestones. But most excitingly, I’m returning to the page. 

Prompt:

What has this summer brought you? Write about it and share it with me (by sending it on instagram, or replying by email if you’re a subscriber) in the next week, and it will go up on the Instagram page.