Bye bye London

The last day in London came wrong to Oxford Street convinced to get off the subway near the Liverpool train station and with the remaining money I could buy either the magnets or the metro ticket for not walking 40 minutes on the road … of course I made the most appropriate decision and I must admit I bought the best magnets.
There was nothing left but to put the backpack on the shoulder, the water in his hand, the magnets in the bag, and proceed for the last, immense and endless walk to the train station.
Between a song and the other I had time to reflect on the time in which the idea of traveling is born: at that moment you are convinced, you are energetic when you click “buy” the airline ticket, when you read the guide to plan the destinations of the days, but then when you approach the date of your departure you start to be afraid of what may happen to you.

I started as fast as possible, fast and late, but I have to admit that if it had not been so I would have had time to be afraid.
I started this journey without expectations, without too many thoughts, and finally, I can say that I am satisfied with what happened.
I did not manage to respect all I had planned and I thought I had visited 1/4 of the things I planned because I lost at least a thousand times; it wasn’t easy to get understood and understand what they had said, I also bought a fantastic 3£ cupcake, then open it and see it overturned without being able to make one of the most delicious photos ever (I must admit it was really good).
Despite this I enjoyed myself, I have noticed so many details in the least known streets and many features of the city, I have also been able to see the diversity of life from nation to nation, habits, language, ways to do and much more …
So thank you London for this wonderful experience and do not be afraid because i’ll see you soon. Read More


The second day’s adventure

The alarm sounds at 8:00 am and, after an energetic and abundant English breakfast, I’m going to explore the city, more aware of where I am.

It is Monday morning and, like every Monday, resumes the routine even in England: metropolitan meets people of all ages, nationalities, tastes and customs, but what everyone shares is the silence and the habit of sitting in a quiet way reading their newspaper and discovering the latest news. At each stop there is a person or a little more, with a book, a suitcase, a bag, a headset, a music, in short, each with their own commitment and direction, but despite everything seems to be in order. Read More

The first time out of Italy

8:30 am Arriving at Stansted Airport, London.

For the first time in my country I chose to live it alone, with no help, no company, with my only strength. I could not make a better choice.
They teach you English in elementary schools and, after 13 years, you’re thinking of talking quietly. The truth is that as soon as I got to the border I noticed how difficult it is to understand the pronunciation that changes from person to person and above all to make them understand.

The first day I was all the time with my eyes wide open, surprised because everything was different from my daily life: the cleanliness and timeliness of the train, the houses very similar to each other and equipped with most of a skylight, the uninhabited areas where animals are raised, and even the different cemeteries from ours.

Arrived in town the first thing you can catch is the details: the corners of the shops with floral decorations, the traditional telephone booths and red buses of the city, the signposts of the premises, the subway called “Underground”, the same taxis that you see in the movies on TV and different people, with different minds.