The "in-between"
"Make sure to take notes of the small moments "in-between".
This magic of life can exist beyond the walls of our dreams.
Remembering to be grateful now ,
time moves faster than it seems"
..said a postcard hanging on the wall of the hostel we were guests of on our first night in Rome. 'Cheese for thought' for 2 travel artists.
I am happy to see Jack-Al, recrossing our paths after more than 2 years, his usual grin materializing out of nowhere, suddenly reborn, the clocks of our life reset to where it all started years ago. The chessboard is Rome, again, "caput mundi", although an empty, sleepy, Augusty Rome, looking like a sleeping shadow of herself. The burden of creating meaning falling more actively on our shoulders...
And he's still the old bard, the magnificent storyteller weaving meaning out of nowhere, creating remarkable moments even at breakfast time. He's the entertainer, who could bond with a passer-by in the blink of an eye.
The characters of his stories span a wide range. From the old stubborn friend who on the last day of school decides he has enough of studying, nails a book on the wall and moves on to a life of manual work..... to the 2 clumsy friends who jokingly decide not to pay a restaurant bill ("Do we do it? we do it!"). They walk undisturbed past the restaurant exit, the cheeky one realized that "we really did it!", starts running, and then the other one, surprised by the events, follows the example and escapes very far in the opposite direction. They would not meet again...
Stories that make you smile and think.
But also "live" experiences that unravel in front of your eyes. At the hostel checkout, we were asked if we wanted the bill. "Noooo, come on! It's OK like this" was his immediate answer. A very funny moment ensued and before I could realize it, Jack-Al was best friends with the receptionist, under the eyes of a few astonished foreign costumers. The guy ended up risking his job by offering us a breakfast we did not pay for, and the rest of the hostel staff followed us to the kitchen to continue conversing. The owner was a bit surprised by the events and initially hesitant of taking out the pastries. Jack-Al seized the awkward silence and diffused the bomb with some well placed words "if that's not possible, there is no problem, it's ok..." followed by a nervous coughing. We were looking at each other, in a moment of irresistible comic tension. The hostel's boss ended up offering us coffee too (although in an "informal" way). Jack was running the show, now the Romanian receptionist lady was hanging from his lips. He threw in few big-sounding words (such as "cultural contamination" to raise the conversation to the next level ("you see..I may seem, but I am not completely stupid!").
It was hard leaving the hostel after having become so popular, but our minds were set to the next accommodation option: the street. Or to put it nicely "Park hotel" with a very wide room with a view on the stars. So the following night, after partying with the locals at Monk's bar, we disappeared in the meanders of Caffarella's park, wrapped by the darkness of its darkest corners. Good night, Rome!
We are simultaneously woken up by my alarm clock and the roaring of a car nearby. It's the police approaching! We refocus our eyes and realize it's the park guardians quickly approaching us. It's one of those fight or flight (or pay a fine!) moments... we try to inspire a hint of respectability. A lady-guard comes to us and ask us if we are responsible for a bonfire who had been done nearby. At our negative answer, instead of taking us to custody or something, she just waives goodbye stating that she would have to clean it up! We are so astonished that we are now expecting her to invite us for coffee!? ("guys, how did you sleep? are you staying with us another night?") I guess, sometimes our fears make us overestimate the consequences of the infractions we do and the beauty of life lies in testing the limits, whatever they are.
But travelling with a creator, alas, means also absolute disorganization: after a day of meandering, we show up at the Maxxi art museum to see an expo, but the ticket officer shut the place in front of us with zero empathy. We were 3 minutes late. It was a hard blow for us, not really for missing the expo, but for having being treated in such a robotic way. It's the proof that sometimes in life it's the "how" not the "what".....indeed it's the "in-between" that makes all the difference. (BTW: was not this the message of Camus, too?)
Ours was a disorganization that may look disarming, but fear not, dear readers, when it comes to packing we prefer military efficiency. I was actually astonished by the logistic solution found by Jack-Al to carry his baggage either in his a backpack or in his bike pannier, giving a lot of flexibility (which is indeed the variable a travel-artist needs to maximize...). Needless to say that he was not carrying drinking water, but the essentials Clarks shoes and the Trussardi trousers were all there, ready for use in an emergency situation! Unsurprisingly, I myself was not up to the latest clothing trends, but I had a trump card to play: an eccentric hawayan shirt that could basically speak by herself! (to put in Jack-Al words: "with that shirt you cannot just sit around, you need to live up to it... and entertain"). I was stressed of the responsibility of wearing such a garment and by the fact that it was way too big for me. But people were talking to my shirt, complimenting her! I was made to promise to give it the day after to a birthday boy, Daniele, whom we arranged to meet (with serendipity) the following night. I was ready for the great giving, but when the time came, Daniele was a changed man: he was embarassed to see us and chickened out past us at the bar without offering drinks (as per contract). Definitely not a man up to the task of wearing the super-shirt!
"It's all vanity!" I hear you saying, dear reader, after all this superficial talk. Well, maybe that is what the in-between is all about? On the other hand I can ensure that there was also substance and depth in our Roman weekend. Like the philosophical discussions with a post-modern touch we had in the beautiful Roman Acqueducts park. Or the common aspiration (I would not call it a dream,yet) of building an eco-sustaibable community. He's on the ground, in central Italy, keeping his eyes open for opportunities, while I am away, in the big city, trying to groom, select, recruit...
Will we make it? The future, what will happen "in-between" during these years, will tell.
Riding a folding li'll one
The mentality (take 1)
The mentality (take 2)
The Gods unleashed us on our bikes and said:
