The Italian lunch

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I once went hiking with my sister in the Swiss/Italian Alps, when I was about 20 or so. We took some sandwiches and cereal bars with us for lunch. In the refugio, we shared a table with a bunch of pleasantly loud Italians. Out of their backpacks came a variety of pasta salads, fresh rosemary bread and home made pesto. They picked up a few flat slates and put candles on them to light the dim cabin. From that moment, I decided to do things differently at home. I would start cooking Italian. And I put some of those nice silvery slates in my bag. When I was much younger, I often went camping with my family in France. At some point, I was very fond of those footless, ribbed wine glasses and the red and white chequered table cloths from the bistro’s. And I decided to redecorate my room when I got back home and start living the French way. I’m not so easily seduced anymore to adopt cultural traditions from abroad, but I still feel some of that childlike belief in how things are gonna be different after returning home from a vacation. This desire to get rid of my own worn out habits.

I feel that now is the time for recuperation, repair, resetting, compensation. Going through last week’s medical treatment was only one of the things that I should have done a long time ago. It was more than a physical thing to me. It was also about acknowledging the damage I had inflicted on myself. And with that came the awareness that this was not the only thing I had done to myself, and possibly to others, out of neglect, distraction, fear or plain incapacity. One of those things is holding on to a lost friendship for far too long. Trying to fix something that is unfixable. Hoping for something that is not gonna happen. In my own defense I can say that I had damn good reasons to fight for this, but all I have managed to keep alive, is my own sadness. I need to stop doing that, because it’s draining me. I want to make room for other things, that are more rewarding, more productive. And more fun.

And I will. When I get back home.

Photo taken with the Nikon D7000, in Iceland, 2014

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