It's so hard to say Goodbye when you only just said Hello

I had a completely different post planned for today. You don't wake up expecting to have to write something like this.

In 2013, I visited Rome - a city I had always wanted to see. One of the most exciting things about that trip was meeting up with my childhood penpal for the first time ever. I wrote about the anticipation here and about the actual meeting here.

When I returned home, we gushed about our trip. Later...she told me she was sick. Cancer - that awful, awful scourge that has covered this world with such a darkness and a mercilessness. She was upbeat, she was positive. We traded messages, I prayed, we made plans. The last conversation she had, she told me she did not have good news. But she was trying her best, she said. She sent me a happy smiley but I am sure she was in so much pain. I sent her one back. The worst thing about having friends so far away is that you cannot hold their hand or hug them. A happy smiley and my thoughts and prayers were all I had to offer. I messaged her after that and got no response. This morning, it dawned on me that I had not checked in on her in a little while. I checked on my last message and saw that it had never been read. I went to her page and I speak no Italian but I did not need to understand the language to understand the story being told through the photos, the messages, the tags.

She was without a doubt the highlight of that trip. When we met, it was like we were friends for years and years, even though we were in a way. She opened her heart to me, her friends, her city. The warmth and beauty of her soul were so genuine in a city that at times felt so cold. It did not matter that I was black or a foreigner or whatever - we were friends when we were 11, and here we were in our 30s - friends then and forever.

I still have the first photo she ever sent me so many years ago in an envelope stamped 'Roma'. She, leaning against a wall, in an oversized sweater, long brown hair over her shoulder, pretty smile. She was happy to make friends from an island so far away and we were so much alike even though we were so different,

She was so young. She was my age. But while I cannot speak to how many lives she touched, she certainly touched mine. I am so glad we got to meet and even though it was a short moment in time, it was a memorable and beautiful moment.Our next rendez-vous was to be in Trinidad. We had talked about this. I looked at the screen this morning and I just cried. She was as good a friend as any I see every day. When I had joys to share, I shared them with her. When I was cold and lonely in London, she always made me laugh. I am heartbroken. We will never make that trip to Cuba together now, but I promise to live each day with hope the way she always told me to. Life is so short and it is not fair.

The hardest part is I did not even know until this morning. That is eating me alive. My heart was heavy and so I checked and checked and checked - going crazy with checking messages, sending messages to her friends, trying to translate messages into English, and forcing myself to think positively when deep down, with every post I tried to translate, every post that was not hers, every throwback photo, I knew otherwise.

Farewell, my lovely, my beautiful friend - both inside and out. Thank you for loving me despite boundaries. Thank you for being the light that you were. Thank you for living a life worthy of the love you have received. Thank you for once again reminding me to Live, Love, Laugh. I will hold you in my heart forever.

Grazie. Sleep well.

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Travelling while Black

They tell you in the guidebooks what to expect if you're gay or if you're a woman. Hell, they need to do it for if you're recognisably black.  

 "Americanah" - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi

Ain't this the truth! Ain't this the truth!

*Ms Adichi speaks a whole lot of truth in Americanah, by the way.*

So while I am not sure what is going on with my life and what 2015 will hold, I still have to at least think of vacation ideas. It's bad enough being a solo traveller - having to find places where a solo traveller feels safe and secure. It's bad enough being a solo female traveller - having to be extra careful in the choices you make as it relates to hotels, travel etc. But add being black to that - it's just a whole other thing altogether.

Travelling while black is real - the notion that this is an issue, I mean. Shopping trips to Miami and New York - no problem. It's like being at home. London - such a melting pot that it's rare that I actually feel like an alien. Londoners ignore everyone - black, white.  But there are some places where I have felt totally out of sorts. The Rome experience to this day, always makes me a bit upset.

Vacations should be carefree for everyone.
This is not me, btw

Luckily, the good experiences outweigh the bad, and though there have been several moments of "wtf!" on my trips, I think they usually had less to do with racism and more to do with:

Plain and simple ignorance - Dear Europe - all black people do not live in Africa. Ever heard the word "diaspora"? I cannot tell you how many times I have been asked to say an English word in "my language". For example - old guy in Florence, Italy. Worse yet, when they find out I am not from Africa, then I just HAVE TO BE American, even if my accent does not quite fit the bill. "Ever been to New York?" Yes, I have been to New York but that is the magic of air travel. I am not American. If someone actually knows where Trinidad is after I tell them, I give them a virtual hug because it is almost miraculous! I am truly an oddity which takes me to the next point...

Curiousity - I heard someone refer to the impolite staring as "rarism" as opposed to"racism". In some of these quasi-homogeneous cities, people like me are a rarity. You are like the raisin in the bowl of milk so they stop and stare and you check to make sure you don't have something in your nose or that your fly is not open because the stares are so pervasive and invasive. Worse, in some cities, the black people there tend to be immigrants, and in my experience, they were usually street vendors/scam artists or hooking. Enter well-dressed black woman and it's like "wtf"? You have now confused the people even more with your bourgie blackness. For me it is always a bit bizarre, especially coming from a place where people stare at you cause they like your ass and want to grab it. Noone stares at my hair, or wants to touch it here, but it is a real phenomenon in some of these places - one that is not cute no matter how clueless or genuinely curious the people may be. There should be a guidebook for residents of these cities - Dos and Don'ts of Meeting Black People for the First Time.

They are just naturally unfriendly and surly - The haterade may actually have nothing to do with the colour of your skin. The people sometimes are just plain unmannerly, unfriendly, uncouth and as we say in Trinidad, "just not on you" and have no damn "broughtupsy".Sad to say, London always comes to mind. They are just a special breed of homo sapien - totally divorced from the reality of life all around them, but when you get around the cold exterior, and get them to put down the iPhone, they can be lovely people. In some places though, they are just like this - fullstop.

But don't get me wrong - travelling while black has the real issues of racism. I have had bus drivers ignore me, waitresses take their damn time to serve me and when they did, I got none of the smiles and sweetness the white customers got. I have had border control brace me as though I were some kind of hoodlum, and Customs stop me to search my luggage and when I looked around, everyone else being searched looked like me. My friend had the cops called on her as she was pumping gas at an isolated gas station behind God's back in the US. And let's not forget another friend who was followed to her hotel room by a hotel employee, accosted and told that prostitutes were not allowed in the hotel.

And it does not matter that we are not drug mules or international escorts. It does not matter that I am educated to Master's level, have a very nice job, with paid vacation and international medical coverage, and zero desire to stay past the time on my visa. The fact of the matter is my passport looks strange and worse yet, I look strange cause I am dark skinned, with dark brown eyes and dark hair. Oh, I'm black. Right. Forgot about that.

But it would also be unfair to paint one city black (pun very well intended) because of the idiocy of a few. Most of my experiences have been positive and a city like Rome, for example, is so beautiful that you just ignore the nonsense and try to make the best of it until you can get the hell outta there. Not to mention I had the chance to meet a friend for the first time ever, so there were a lot of good memories from that trip. I have learnt over time to not miss the opportunities in front of me because of any stereotypes or prejudice people may have. That's on them.

That being said, I am not sure where to go this year. My tolerance levels for nonsense are at an all time low, and it would be nice to travel among more people like myself, but still - the world is my oyster so onward! Ideas still welcome, keeping in mind the solo, female bit as well.

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The Final Moments of La Dolce Vita

It's a very tired tourist writing this blog entry.  Rome was a lot of fun, and sometimes fun can be exhausting.

So the last time I checked in, I was preparing for an outing to Villa Borghese and a meetup 20 years in the making with a childhood penpal.   Galleria Borghese is a small museum but boasts a very rich collection, mainly featuring works of Bernini. Getting there is just as amazing as the museum is located at the end of the beautiful Villa Borghese grounds - a beautiful stretch of open, green space which as a park is clearly much loved and appreciated by both locals and tourists alike.

I will confess, the morning was soured by the rudeness of the bus driver, and I would go further to say that he just could not handle or appreciate this awesome dark brown girl, and that is as diplomatic as I am going to be. Generally, I felt an overwhelming unfriendliness in Rome, which some may not appreciate me saying, but it was certainly my personal experience. Not generalising but just stating my own opinion based on MY experience in this gorgeous city. The brown tourist experience is a unique one cause in some places you never blend in, but then who wants to be a faceless other anyway? Still, between the rude stares, impolite behaviour or the often aggressive adoration of black hair, and brown skin, it was often a test of my patience.  

However, the warmth and love were most apparent when my penpal and I finally met during the second part of my trip. As I had mentioned before, we forged an overseas friendship in our pre-teen years, when snail mail was in, and social media was not even an option. And she is as lovely as I hoped she would be. There were hugs, kisses, laughs. It was really something else. She also introduced me to her sister and her friends who made the Roman experience a truly memorable one, with their light heartedness, humour and inquisitiveness. Of course, as always, I sold my own country as the place to visit so hopefully our second such meetup will be on my side of the pond.  

On the first night, we attempted to take in a music festival at Piazza Farnese, but soon traded that for drinks, which is always the best way. The night after, I had the chance to experience typical Italian nightlife in Trastevere, where we had aperitifs, gelato, street entertainment, and a walk along the river, where the summer fair had recently started and all the booths set up. Along the entire length of the river - lungo di tevere (Jason should he impressed with my power of recall) - there were booths showcasing art, hawking various wares, peddling cocktails and other such uplifting substances, all against the backdrop of a beautiful, albeit cranky looking Tiber river at night. The throngs of people were evidence that Italy was clearly welcoming the first days of summer.  

Sadly, it all had to end sometime, and after one last stroll through St Peter's Square on Sunday morning, I bid Rome farewell. It was truly a magical experience and one I will treasure forever. Of course, I will be back. Duh. Thanks to my new, beautiful Italian friends who opened their hearts and their city to me, to the lone Brit for just speaking English and being a bit funny as well, and to the various people I met along the way. It was grand.

Next - Mind the Foodie Gap in London Town

The lush greenery of Villa Borghese

Borghese museum

Gelato cornucopia 

Cannoli - so sweet.

Awesome sculpture on the bank of the Tiber

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The Agony and the Ecstasy: Roman adventures continue

Yesterday I was a tourist on speed. By the time I got home, I could barely walk, so much so I took the elevator to my room, rather than climb 10 steps. My feet are really suffering on this trip. Being flat footed means my feet are usually problematic. Having poor circulation adds to that. Add mucho walking and intense heat to an already bad situation and it has been the worst part of my vacation. I packed a few different pairs of tourist-appropriate shoes, which in the past worked fine but after trying, swapping and failing,  today I left the hotel wearing my shower flip flops. Between wearing those and really taking it easy today with the walking, it was a much more enjoyable day today.

I also did not want to get back to my hotel looking like roadkill, and scaring the staff and guests, so really relaxed today.  Sometimes I go on vacation and want to see everything but it is just not possible. Today, I sat on terraces, strolled, met people, and most importantly, my hair held up, and I did not look like a shiny blob. Lol.

Spent part of the morning in the Colosseum. Roman architecture never fails to amaze me. I walk through this city and everything is larger than life, and breathtaking.  Today was the day for all my expectations to be surpassed. Noone told me the Trevi Fountain was so fantastic. I mean, sure you see it in mags or movies but what an incredible piece of work. But it was the Pantheon which just did it for me today. Larger than life, and stunning. I sat inside and just took it all in for half hour, from the incredible dome, to Raphael's tomb - beautiful.

I think I have had all the water in Italy by now. The heat is intense, and water and Jesus continue to deliver me, for at every chance, I ducked into a church, an oasis of coolness and a good spot to take a load off, refer to one's map and not be scared that someone will nick your wallet. Like every European city I have been to so far, there are the guys who sell knock offs on the street, or souvenirs, or beg, or try to scam you or rob you. My breakfast mate yesterday told  me she was pickpocketed on the bus - a common thing here in Rome. I make no apologies for suspecting anyone who looks at me too hard. Then there are the guys who try to scam you with flattery or as we say in Trinidad,  mamaguy. They walk up to you, flatter flatter flatter - you are so beautiful. Take this rose, no charge. But of course when you take the rose, they ask for just one coin...just one. Yeah right.

The eye candy is better for sure though it is a mixed bag of Italians and tourists. I had a glass of wine on the Piazza Navona, then another at a Pantheon tourist trap, before making my way to Piazza di Pasquino and all in the name of people watching. Eventually had dinner with a lovely German couple, and a yummy dinner at that at Terra di Siena. I know it may have been a bit sacrilegious to dine at a Tuscan restaurant in Rome, but it was close, was not part of the tourist fare around the monuments    large squares, and it was recommended. Dinner was lovely. Lovely smoked salmon and arugula, followed by ricotta and spinach ravioli in sage and butter sauce, and tiramisu. I know...tiramisu again.  I can't help myself. Lol.

Tomorrow, an even easier day spent in Borghese, and a relaxing stroll through the city so as not to wear myself out as my penpal, the one I used to write 20 odd years ago, and whom I have never met, will be my "date" tomorrow evening. Roman rendezvous.


Next - The Final Moments of La Dolce Vita

Inside the Colosseum

The stunning, breathtaking Trevi Fountain

The Pantheon

Fountain of the Four Rivers in Piazza Navona

The view from the bottom of the Spanish Steps

Smoked salmon and arugula salad

Spinach and ricotta ravioli in butter and sage sauce

The best tiramisu ever

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Sights, sounds and smells of Rome

What a day! So here I am in Rome, where it has truly been a new experience. But before we get there, I feel the need to backtrack to Tuesday morning and another awesome experience with Ryanair. My God, this has to be the worst airline in the history of the world. I get to Barajas airport in Madrid at 5.15am to catch this dreadful flight to Rome at 6.25am. What a meat market. Total chaos at check-in and noone seemed to care. Certainly not the Ryanair customer service rep who seemingly misplaced a customer's passport, resulting in a not so minor disturbance in the check-in area. Certainly not the chick who took her time to check people in causing us to make a mad dash for the boarding gate as the meat market made its way onto the aircraft. I had said never again, and had meant it but the difference in fares was too  significant at time of booking. But Ryanair still sucks. Thankful my return flight will not be with them.

Anyway, Roma is hot! Very very hot. I slept most of yesterday as the late Madrid nights had finally caught up with me, but ventured out in the evening for dinner. And at 9pm it was still in the 30s (Celsius). Tonight I came home after the longest and hottest day ever in my career as a brown tourist, and sure enough, there were the tan lines.

But it has been fun so far. As the title of the blog suggests, lots to see, as underscored by my amazing, amazing, amazing day at the Vatican, roaming through its fantastic museums, and the piece de resistance, the Sistine Chapel. I was surprised that the chapel was smaller than I expected, but what a masterpiece. Reading about it and seeing it yourself - two very different things. For a guy who was not confident of his talents as a painter, as he was of his sculpting,  and in fact who up to then had not really painted before, Michelangelo was gangsta. It's simply breathtaking. 

Did not see the Pope though today would have been the day to catch him during his Wednesday Mass, but not devastated or anything. Especially since getting to the museums took some doing. I am not ashamed to admit yet again that I am hopelessly directionally challenged. Lol. Maps do not work. I am just rubbish. The Rome bus system was the first problem. What a nightmare this is. I tell you, London has it under control. This is simply abysmal. Buses are not regular and certainly cannot accommodate the mass of tourists that plague the city. So when I saw a swarm of the ever ubiquitous Japanese tourists approaching my stop, I cried to myself. The bus got there after 35 minutes of standing in the blazing sun and then I had to literally swat tourists off me as they converged simultaneously on the bus doors. Nightmare. It did not help that it took me a good 45 minutes to find the f...g stop in the first place.

Tired and hot, I was now in the bus and of course cannot see where I am going with all the little tourist heads in baseball caps blocking the windows. So going with God, I say to myself, they could only be going to the Vatican.  The bus, unlike other bus systems, does not visually or verbally announce stops so I think to myself,  Japanese tour guide dude will tell them when to get off. And he does, and they do, and I did. Guess what? It was not the Vatican. Lol. Introduce, the map. Nightmare. After maybe 20 minutes of walking and not seeing any sign of the papal frock, and using too many cuss words for such a holy adventure,  I realised I was walking AWAY from the damn...darn place. A hiccup or two later, I was inside - hot, tired, sweaty and looking like I truly needed a blessing. Introduce wet wipes, oil absorbing sheets and a hair brush and life was back to normal.

This after a mini-excursion to the Roman Forum, and Il Vittoriano, which were much easier to find. lol. Last evening, after dinner, I got the chance to see the breathtaking Colosseum at night. Clearly something my Roman companion thought was a bore but a sight I am still more than impressed by.

The smells. Well, some good like the wonderful dinner last night at a small corner restaurant in Via Cavour. I gave some new things a go and it was all very good. Add the wicked smell of calories via the delicious gelato - my first so far during this trip - from Old Bridge Gelateria near the now personally infamous Vatican museums. I asked for the smallest serving and the guy looked so disappointed. Hello? Have you seen my ass? And still, this small cup was subject go not one but THREE different flavours in one serving. The people just wicked. But it was delicious.

The not so good smells came from some of the people. Now while we know there is an economic crisis, there also seems to be a deodorant crisis. The bus/metro experience is further aggravated by the rank smell of perspiration at any time of day. Now, my own Lady Speed Stick protection was put to the test in a serious way today but my underarms held out, much to my relief. It's bad though, this pervading smell of sweaty humans. Speed Stick!

As for the sounds, my room is on a very loud street but then again, Rome is freakin' loud.

So much more I can write about but there is an episode of Hannibal I still need to watch, so off I go for now. Dead tired and I do it all again tomorrow.

Next - The Agony and the Ecstasy - Roman adventures continue

The Roman Forum

The Colosseum at night

Inside the Vatican museums

The courtyard of the Vatican museums

Il Vittoriano - spectacular

What they call a SMALL serving of gelato - three flavours in one cup.

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