B-day thoughts and Travel notes

My first week in Mexico has just gone and my 32 years on this planet too!

Counting, we could spend a lot of time doing it, how many birthdays have I spent in a hot place, far away from my family, on my own, how many days are you staying here, how many countries have you visited, how many languages can you speak, how many pyramids have you seen, how many euros have you spent... (I had 55 people wishing me a happy birthday on facebook!!! thank you facebook, you're not just taking away my creative time as I initially thought!)

 yesterday we went with mama (aka Mamà Rosita) on a tour to visit Chichen Itzà ruins, classified as one of the 7th wonders of the world, therefore an archaeological site receiving an incredible number of tourists everyday, and the visits are clearly arranged to satisfy as many people as possible, in the least time possible too.
No doubt, the site is amazing, seeing the ruins, the ball game picth and the representations of the snakes and skulls, and listening to our Italian speaking guide, revived memories of my Anthropology studies, why is my memory so short? I remember being really interested in that, why can't I be there explaining to Rosita about the ancient populations of Mesoamerica? I'm just not good at telling stories, my brain just doesn't work like that, and that's fine too.

Anyway, the tour-ists' needs: Chichen Itzà ruins, guided visit and free time to do the shopping; lunch at a buffet restaurant, with tables arranged per mini-bus number, and with a traditional dances show between the tables, forcing waiters to become integrating part of the dance; 45 minutes at the 'cenote' to dive into this natural hole filled with pure water (and lots of fish!); back to the mini-bus to visit the colonial town of Valladolid, 30 minutes.
I knew that the tour was going to be like this. I did ask Rosita 'do you really want to go to Chichen Itzà?', perhaps I could have been clearer with her about how it was going to be like, still, I don't regret having spent many hours on the mini-bus to have very rushed visits. I met nice people at the visit, had a few interesting chats, I ate some beans purée and fresh salad, run away from the restaurant to have a quick look at the small town's main square: the road was closed to the traffic and the sound system under the town hall arcade was spitting out loud tunes to the desert square, lorries with rides for the funfair were arriving, the sun was shining on the garlands, a dog, some kids on their pushbikes and me.
I wanted to find a coffee, or a dairy-free ice-cream, no luck, but the escape from the tourists area felt kind of good; I'm also a tourist, a visitor, I go around with my camera taking pictures to confirm to my eyes the image I had of Mexico, so what is this relief when walking on normal streets in normal towns?
I finally found a lovely coffee place in Valladolid on the main square, expreso, I needed it so much.
I had a chat with the guy behind the counter, had to refuse some local liquor he offered me because of the honey it contained (doh!), we walked around the square and it was already time to go back to the minibus, exhausted and feeling almost ill I tried to sleep and think about the blog posts I want to write: it seems that until I don't slow down again when Mamà Rosita leaves, I will not have much time for writing, or thinking.
But I've got now a list of ideas I'm writing down as they come to my mind, hopefully one day, when it rains...

Lessons learnt - notes to self:
don't bring books to tours and/or excursions
ask tours sellers to tell you the truth regarding timings
do not talk about politics with your parents
full time permanent work with 4 weeks holiday/year: really?
Italians abroad, everywhere, as always (I might write something about this at some point)

Growing older

Silver hair
Sleepless nights
Seeking memories
out of sight

After 4 years I come back to these pages

Here I am, 4 years later, I look at these pages and I can clearly see how many things have changed but also the fair amount of those that remained the same!!!! as if time and space remained still.

This blog has been for me the place where I would write down personal notes, attempts to poetry, musical and visual memories, to trace movements, emotions and inspirations I'd come across, wherever I would have found myself on this world (during those years I was moving from place to place with such ease!).

It seems that my time in Australia gave me a lot of chances to be prolific with words, I think a friend at that time even defined me as 'a genuine tanguera' - and that was not for my dubious dancing skills! but for the dramas I was often creating out of my life situations.
I now think it was most certainly a combination of beautiful landscapes, a high level of naiveté and a bit of thoughtful light-heartedness to give me the inspiration to write and/or take the time to somehow record events in a different way than keeping a notebook.
Of course the initial plan was to compile a blog to share my life overseas with friends and family back home, and that luckily never really worked out well, as I wasn't writing for them, but most likely to myself, or occasionally to some secret imaginary lover.

Well, now I'm about to cross the ocean again (yeepee!) for a couple of months, I will see again mangroves, rivers, beaches, rocks, waves, trees and people, eat chocolate, drink coffee and dance to the moon and listen to music... and I will probably be gifted with the abundance of that time in which there's no obligation to do something, you just need to be there, observing, chasing thoughts, see if they bring somewhere beautiful and decide whether to follow them, or move on, as there will be plenty more of solitary moments to enjoy and sink into. I'm sure!