Tag: travel plans

Travel is a universal language

Sticky notes lay out in various colours across my bedroom floor. My friend and I had some planning to do. Our first trip abroad was looming and we wanted to make the most of it. We were 17 going on 18 and New York was calling. My friend had wholeheartedly been on board with going on the trip however when I asked what she wanted to do she had no idea. The pressure was on to make sure she had the best time. In my mind I had wandered those streets thousands of times. Now I was preparing to make those walks a reality. 

As we sat there on that wooden floor, we used the post it notes to piece together a plan for our 5 days in Manhattan. We put them into columns based on which days they would work best on and used a map to pinpoint which stops were close to one another. This was way before I was confident using the internet and so the process took us a few hours. And yet it was exciting. 

The trip in the Spring of 2004 was amazing. Perfect even. And therein started the development of my skills towards itinerary creation. Since then I have created itineraries for family, clients and Mr W and myself. It is an absolute joy. There is something so soothing to create something particular and bespoke. A blank piece of paper transforms into a carefully crafted and researched travel bible.

I’ve never really had much confidence in my ability. It is a mixture of self esteem issues and a bad experience working in the travel industry. Recently I have felt particularly crap about it all due to my client list becoming practically nil due to the pandemic. 

Last week, I had the best time talking to a new friend on zoom. She lives in America and we met on a facebook group in March 2020. The group was a place to talk about Italy and at the time was being flooded with questions about Covid and how the country was doing. It became very clear very quickly in which way the new virus was going and it became a space to share fears and tips on how to salvage our bookings.

Over two years later Carrie and I have shared pleasantries online. We have a similar travel history and I was able to share our trip to Italy in September 2020 with her as she is yet to rebook her own. Just a month or so ago she told me the very exciting news that she would be coming to England for the first time. She asked if I would look at her list of plans and let her know if I could recommend anything she had missed. 

I said it might be worthwhile talking ‘in person’ and after a few hiccups we finally ‘met’ last week. I’m always nervous meeting a new person but having been laid up with a bad back all day and only remembering that I was due online at the last minute I felt exceptionally unprepared. As someone who is trying to remember that the least interesting thing about myself and others is the way we look, I annoying found myself finger-brushing my hair and thanking my low-light lamp.

No worry was ever needed less. Carrie was so friendly and intrigued by my accent that we spent a good 20 minute talking about all sorts of things. Afterwards, we got down to the nitty gritty and talked incessantly about London. Although Mr W and I spend a lot of our free weekends in our capital city I do find that we avoid tourist traps and feel that our days there would not be too impressive to an out of towner. It soon became clear that the index in my mind was so much bigger than I originally thought and I found myself smiling as Carrie took copious notes. It was as if a light had blinked into life in my brain and I sat for over an hour unloading everything I knew. We agreed to meet up when she comes over and I sat in quiet contentment at my ability to spurt out knowledge so quickly. There was another half hour or so of chatter about Paris, Italy and how we generally approach travel and I felt the prickles of twinship with another soul.

With promises to share our Scotland trip with her and glance over her London itinerary upon my return I signed off for the night. I sat for a while smiling. A new friendship across the Atlantic ocean was forming and based on something so very special to me. 

It was a great pleasure to be reminded of just how much travel is embedded in my very being. I’ve been quietly simmering with pride ever since. It also reminded me of how friends can come from anywhere at any time in our lives. I am revelling in a new experience however small it may seem from the outside looking in. 

Note to self, this is just another reason to take a chance when you maybe aren’t feeling your most confident.

Reclaiming a sunset

Picture this: it’s late 2019, I’m on the phone to a stranger. It’s my husband’s colleague and I need his help to secretly book him some annual leave for April 2020. The conversation goes back and forth over the next few months and all is sorted. I feel a wave of nervousness and excitement every time I open up my secret itinerary. The plan started as 4 days in Florence but once I got into the research and my confidence in Italiano grew, I looked at exploring Pisa for one day and adding two days in Venice onto the end of the trip. One train journey from Santa Maria Novella in Florence to Santa Lucia, Venice. I planned on keeping this part a secret until the very last minute. How simple does that sound? I spent the better part of 2 months planning the itinerary. Booking restaurants, trains, tickets, hotels and apartments. I look up boats in Venice and lazy garden wanders in Florence. April 2020 could not come quicker. I feel you laughing. I’m laughing.

And then it did. From the middle of February 2020, the world watched as the virus Covid-19 spread like a wildfire from Northern Italy down the country, regions falling quickly under its deadly hold. Like a vice grip, we saw the devastation it had on Europe and then the UK. 

As people panic bought toilet rolls, another panic took over me. How on earth was I going to take Mr W to a covid hotspot? When the anxiety and lack of sleep got too much, I folded and spilled the beans. The decision could not be mine alone, his health could not be in my hands. The little gifts I bought that once held so much meaning were now pointlessly handedl plaover, in some wild attempt to salvage the thoughts and feelings that had been put into this trip. 

A metal plane keyring – we’re flying somewhere!

A faux plane ticket, with a scratch off location reveal.

An Italian flag – guess where?

A tiny train with real sound effects – choo choo.

One teeny, panettone – a snack while on the move.

A ridiculously small, jelly pizza – something sweet just for you.

A magnet of the statue of David of Michaelangelo – a cheeky part!

On the trip, I would give Mr W a fold out map of each location, to add to our collection and to round it all up nicely. 

He wouldn’t know much about the itinerary, but he now knew about Venice.

In true Mr W fashion, he took it like a champ, his own disappointment forgotten as I went to pieces in front of him. He wasn’t worried about the virus, he said we’d stay as safe as possible, buy some masks, and stay away from crowds. I even had plans in case Italy refused us entry. What if we headed for a private villa in Spain alone and safe. What if we stayed in the UK?

A week later, our choice did not matter. Governments around the world closed their countries borders and I spent two weeks reclaiming what I could from the cancelled trip. In the beginning it felt like a challenge, but through all of it everyone was so lovely. The hardest part was the airline, it was an unprecedented situation and even they didn’t know their head from their arse. Over the course of the months that followed I was either reimbursed in full or given vouchers for my tickets. All in all I lost 5% of what I had paid out. By then, money didn’t seem important, neither did a cancelled trip. The world went to pieces and I with it. When the travel date came, we spent a very long day in our garden, there was gin, music and sun. It was a totally different method of escape. 

Fast forward to June 2020 and there was talk of restrictions easing. I toyed with the idea of rebooking Italy, but the horrors of covid made the air thick with doubt. By July, flight prices were the cheapest I had ever seen them and new guidelines had been brought out by airlines, they favoured the customer! With lots of trepidation, Mr W and I decided to go for it. With only 6 weeks to go, we booked the same trip for a date in September 2020. 

It was easy enough to re-book everything, there was a fair bit of reading to do on the moving between regions and the restrictions in place, but other than masks on transport and in shops, Italy had found its way out of the worst of it. 

I’ll never forget taking off from England, our plane had 37 masked passengers. 37! I realised that we may have similar surroundings in Italy itself. As the plane lifted from the ground, my heart soared, I was back where I belonged. I was on the move again. 

We spent 3 picture perfect days in Pisa and Florence, and like the River Arno, the crowds ebbed and flowed. In certain areas it was quiet, in other touristy areas, there were slightly more people, but nowhere near as many as I expected. I didn’t really think of crowds until we got to Venice. Or rather on the way!

On the train to Venice, we were two of three passengers in an entire train carriage. Despite the busy station, this regional train was quiet. Was Northern Italy being given a wide berth by Italians? By tourists?

Unsure of what to expect, we ventured out to the venetian waters and climbed the Ponte degli Scalzi. I’ve never experienced such wonder. I usually see a lot of photos when researching a trip, so arriving at a pinpointed place is more like visiting an old friend. But not here. I looked down onto the Grand Canal and stood mesmerised by its glittering waters. It was so blue. The light caught it in such a way, the waves turned into sunlight and shone so bright that I could not look away. I’d held Florence in such a high regard when booking the trip, I had treated Venice as a flight of fancy. A tick on the ol’ bucket list. But this was stripped back and raw. The sheer abandonment of expectation, the utmost surprise of beauty in something so fresh and ordinary. 

We spent the majority of the first day in Venice on the water, we toured the Grand canal and once we dropped our bags at our hotel, jumped on a vaporetto to Burano. I still had a few secrets up my sleeve. Burano itself is one of the most amazing places. The terraced houses are painted every colour imaginable and the winding canals capture your inner photographer. It was perhaps a crowd you expect to see on a Sunday afternoon, after dinner, a slow wander to walk off a dinner. That kind. It was welcoming and unassuming. We made our way to Fondamenta di cao Moleca, famous for its Tre Ponti, a stunning three way bridge over the waterways. Lots of people turn up to take photos and repeat their steps back into the heart of Burano. If you walk further down to the edge of the island you’ll find a view out onto the venetian waters. Time it just right and you’ll meet sunset. It was glorious. Just us two. 

Before this moment, the sun disappearing each night, just hailed back the horrors of restless sleep and nightmares of death tolls and feelings of being caged. 

I remember feelings of quiet euphoria at that moment. Nothing could take it away. In silence I watched over the waters and felt a lifting of the anxiety that had clung to me for 6 months. Covid had taken so much from the world. And gave us back fear and anxiety and hopelessness. But that moment, shrouded in an orange sunset, I let it go. I felt that the world could heal. That I could. That’s the thing about a sunset outside of your cage, it feels like the closing of a chapter with a promise of something new tomorrow.