over the rainbow

Annika

There really is no better feeling than the adrenaline rush and intense happiness that grows to unearthly proportions as the engines roar louder and the plane accelerates.
It is my favorite moment, so filled with promises and adventure, with everything still ahead.
It is the moment when it all begins.

We have flown through clouds, along a rainbow, under the sun, over several rainbow circles.

We are in Pisa now

and I am so happy.

when reality slaps you in the face and refuses to let you hide anymore

Annika

OK. It’s vacation time. The one you’ve dreamed about, diligently planned, researched, endlessly talked about. The one where your husband is thinking, “If she mentions that damn leaning tower one more time, it’s divorce court the minute we get back”. The tickets are purchased, reservations are made and you’ve checked with Granny to make sure she can stay with the kids. You’re good to go. You breathe a sigh or relief when all of a sudden you realize - MY GOD, WE’VE GOT TO PACK!

http://www.slowtrav.com/europe/packing.htm

Toothpaste aloe vera gel antibacterial wet tissues bug spray cooling balm allergy meds foldable toothbrushes fruit sunblock bikinis flip flops sunflower seeds ibuprofen elastic bandage printouts tickets shorts sunglasses conditioner timetables battery chargers headphones books water bottles DVDs tweezers sanity lip balm phone numbers vouchers cute dresses I need to pack all these things I have bought all these things

so far I have packed Giovanna’s coffee and Alexander’s passport. That’s a start.

We’re leaving tomorrow!!!!!

sleepless in Sweden

Annika

Italy is sleeping and the skies are pitch black, but here it’s broad daylight. It’s 04.48 and I’ve been awake for almost two hours - it’s not that I’m not tired, I just can’t relax enough to fall asleep. There hasn’t been a day for the last week that I haven’t woken up at dawn, and it has been very difficult to go back to sleep.

I know why. I have been totally stressed out for the last couple of years, and I am beginning to get both anxious and excited about our trip. I haven’t packed (but who in their right mind would be packed and ready to go three days in advance?!) but I think I need to start

holy crap I’m going to Italy in just a few days!

I think it just started to sink in, the reality of this trip. It’s actually going to happen, it’s real and it’s here!

Well, I don’t have to go to work today. It’s better that I don’t sleep now than later in the week, I want to be  nimble and fresh for our travels. Today I’ll start preparing for real: pack, print reservations and timetables, backup the computer, take out the never used suitcase.

As I write this, the sky over  Positano has gone from the blackest of black to a deep navy blue. Morning is breaking.

I’ll sleep tonight.

breathtaking

Annika

Positano by night. Simply breathtakingly beautiful.

I remember how we strolled along the beach and watched the town light up as the sky darkened. Positano is stunning at every moment of every day, but it is truly magical at night. I cannot imagine ever growing tired of that view, and I was very pleased to find that there are late buses from Positano to Amalfi so that I can experience it first hand again - this time it won’t be on a romantic anniversary dinner with my husband, but I feel truly blessed knowing that I have the chance to give our son precious memories.

almost there

Annika

We had a few things on our list that had to be checked off before the trip: Pack, move and unpack, Alexander’s birthday, clean the apartment.

Two weeks ago we moved, yesterday was Alexander’s birthday, and today we emptied and cleaned the apartment. That apartment was good to us for five years, but it is a relief to finally be able to put it off my mind. It is spotless now and we only have a few boxes left in the storage room. It is not our home anymore.

Three days remain to unpack some more, get the house in order and get ready for travel.

you know me too well

Annika

Delina asked:

Are you making a cake?

You know me too well by now Of course I’m making a cake!

inconceivable

Annika

The webcam images of Positano and Amalfi are mesmerizing this morning.  Sunny, perfect weather. 27.6 degrees at 7.30 in the morning.

I look out the window. 15 degrees and the same cloudy sky and ruthless wind as the last weeks. Four more days. I find it surreal and terribly difficult to understand. I’m not even in that pre-trip excitement state yet, I’m just… confused. Are we really going?!

No more work for four weeks. This is my first real summer holiday in 11 years.

Today my son turns 8. Eight!!!! I can’t believe I have a child that is eight years old, I still remember my 8th birthday. Now he is 8. How old does that make me?! 

We’re all going on a summer holiday
no more working for a week or two
Fun and laughter on a summer holiday
no more worries for me or you
for a week or two

Cliff Richard - Summer Holiday

I’m going to Italy next week!

Annika

I’ve been wanting to say that and mean it ever since this post, and now I can.

I’m going to Italy next week! Woohoo!

And that’s all for today, folks. Thank you, and good night.

somewhere I belong

Annika

Until today, I hadn’t mowed a lawn in 12 years or so. I had forgotten how much work it is.

I like it here. Slowly we are turning this house into a home, and it is calm yet filled with life in a way the apartment never was. This is a place to live, not just a place to keep our belongings and rest our heads.  A real, grown-up home.

Eleven days remain of my 13 months long trip countdown. I feel very calm about it now. Excited, yes, anxious, you bet, but still calm. It is the practical details I’m worried about, not the trip in itself. The first days will be intense and will involve way too many hours of travel, but if we only get down to Amalfi in one piece, everything will be fine.

Azzurri 2006  asked:

Annika - loved reading your blog - what is it that first interested you in Italy and when do you intend moving there?

It began four years ago, nine years ago, twentyfive years ago, two hundred years ago.

When I was little I was given a figurine, a pretty woman made of sea shells. It was made in Alassio, and out of all my knick-knack this was my dearest item and I still have it today.

When I met my husband we talked about moving abroad. I said France, he said Italy. I took him on his word and began researching Italy, and soon forgot all about France.

Four years ago I began to realize that in that pace we weren’t going to get to Italy anytime soon, so I decided to do something about it. I read everything I could find about Italy, I started to listen to Italian radio on the Internet, I dedicated my spare time to teaching myself the Italian language.

I became obsessed, possessed. The language basics came easily, as though I was not learning a new language but recalling a language I had forgotten. I tried Italian recipes, and my body rejoiced: That’s what food is supposed to taste like! It felt right, tasted right, sounded right.

All my life I had had this feeling of not belonging, knowing deep in my soul that I was intended to be somewhere else, feeling unrooted, malcontent and restless. I felt different than the people around me, disconnected, somehow knowing my time here in Sweden was only temporary.

When I found Italy, I found home. I knew it from the start, already when I saw the first pictures I knew and when I first set my foot on Italian soil the feeling was so strong that I could hardly stand up straight. I just knew.

If it were up to me and me alone I would already have moved, but I have a family here and my husband has no wishes of living in Italy. My first goal is to spend as much time as possible in Italy without actually living there, eventually purchase an apartment which can be rented when we’re not there, then we’ll see what happens. It is kind of difficult to compromise on where to live, but since living halfway there wouldn’t quite do the trick, it’s the time that has to be divided in some way.
All I know is that I have to have Italy as a part of my life, because that is where my heart belongs.

I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place.
Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not.
They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage.
They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred
and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known.
Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves.
Perhaps some deeprooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.
Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs.
Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth.
Here at last he finds rest.

- William Somerset Maugham

quindici giorni

Annika

Unbelievable. Where did July come from?

Obiously I knew it would arrive but I didn’t quite expect it to come this soon. July is here, I’ve waited for July for over a year and now I want to stop the time.

What am I going to do when all this is over? When we’re all settled in the new house, when we’re back home from Italy… then what?

Fifteen days. Quindici giorni. Quince jours. Femton dagar.

I’m not yet done unpacking, but it is almost time to start packing again. My brain is malfunctioning. I can’t think. My priorities are havocked. I don’t know what to do, can’t decide where to start, and so I do nothing. I have a million things to find a new place for, but I spend my energy on smelly drains.

Focus, Annika. Eat, breathe, sleep. Two weeks is a long time, and there ain’t nobody going to hang you if there are boxes left unpacked when you leave.

What? Oh come on. You know you’re talking to yourself too! I’m just doing it in public. It doesn’t mean I’m crazy… at least that’s what I tell myself. Oops.