Eating alone, eating solo

By ad | Published: January 11, 2012

The first time I ate in a restaurant alone, I was 25 years old. It was an exercise that I was putting myself through, because I thought it would be “good” for me. Following the instructions of magazine writers everywhere, I had taken along a book, but it quickly became an outlet for my nervous tension.

Look at that girl, I imagined the other patrons saying, So sad that doesn’t she have any friends! To quell my shame and discomfort, I slapped it on the table immediately and proceeded to turn the pages loudly and make exaggerated motions of interest to show how deeply absorbing it all was. Nodding. Underlining. Sighing.

Oh, yes, I wanted to shout out. I’m important and have important things to read over here! It’s okay if I’m alone!

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags, random musings | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Ode to the flight attendant

By ad | Published: September 19, 2011

One of my favourite aspects of flying is watching the va et vient of flight attendants. Mostly because they are my barometers for whether or not everything is going well (“only start panicking if the flight attendants look worried”), but also because I admire how they exude the firm, yet loving demeanor of a mother.

Trans-Atlantic flights tend to leave Canada in the evening so that you arrive in Europe in the morning. The efficiency with which the attendants feed you dinner and get you ready for sleep (whether you like it or not) reminds me of long ago school days when my mother rushed me through the evening routine so that I’d get to bed early and be fit for school in the morning.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Odds and ends, Rome, Italy

By ad | Published: September 9, 2011

The confused question has now been replaced by a delighted exclamation:

“Oh! You speak English!”

At least this time, this reaction does not come as a surprise. I started my trip in the less-touristy region where my parents were born, but with every new destination since – Milan, Turin and Cinque Terre – I have been encountering more tourists and fewer locals.

I suspect that In the eyes of the tourists, I am the local-with-a-friendly-face. And when I see myself reflected in the window panes of the Rome Metro, with tanned arms, dark, curly hair and relaxed body language, I can understand why I stand apart from the droves of pale, camera-laden tourists that cast a worried glance at every sign.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Walking the trail, Cinque Terre, Italy

By ad | Published: September 6, 2011

The map they gave me indicated that the 3km-walk between Vernazza and Monterosso would take approximately two hours, but it only took me an hour and a half. And wearing a pair of chucks too.

The trail draws a wavy line along the coastal mountains of the Italian Riviera, sometimes rising to skirt the top-most boundary of a leafy orchard, other times diving into shady, cavern-like corners fed by secret springs and hung with ivy. The path itself changes too, alternating between wide stretches, shaded by natural leafy pergolas and freshened with a mountain breeze, and narrow ledges of hard, dusty rock made even harder by the relentless heat of the sun. But always the Mediterranean ocean twinkling far, far below, the deep turquoise becoming more textured with every change in the wind’s direction, the waves never ceasing.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The meaning of “Italian”, Torino, Italy

By ad | Published: September 4, 2011

An unexpected thing has happened. Although I am probably the only person who did not expect it.

I am now so fully absorbed into the Italian landscape that whenever it comes out that I’m actually Canadian-born, I’m met with confusion and a sputtered, “Comé. Non sei italiana?” It happens every day now. From the Italian B&B owner. From the American tourists I helped in a restaurant. From a Milanese who stopped me on the street to ask about my tattoo. The best was a harried father who approached me in a supermarket to ask if I knew where the female hygiene products were. He looked very miffed when I said I didn’t know, his eyes accusing me of being unhelpful on purpose.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Epic moments, Milan, Italy

By ad | Published: September 2, 2011

If Milan is all about art and fashion, then the three days I spent there were an all-out success.

1) Seeing da Vinci’s The Last Supper
While standing in the first of two sealed chambers, I placed myself quite deliberately at the back of the group so that I would be the last to enter. In my mind, this was going to be a sacred moment and I wanted my encounter with one of the most famous religious artworks of all time to be as intimate as possible.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Why we love the ocean, Porto d’Ascoli, Italy

By ad | Published: August 31, 2011

No use talking about the places you’ve lived in or the people you’ve lived with. Our one true home is the sea. And it is a truth that forms even as our bones are beginning to shape themselves in the briny sea of a mother’s womb.

The ocean is the place from which life arose and it is a place that we long to return to our whole lives through. Look at the excitement in your children’s eyes when you take them to the beach. Think about your own fascination with the sea. Remember the flush that creates sensations all through your body whenever your eyes meet that strip of watery blue. Observe how often in books or movies, the main character reaches a turning point the first time they see the ocean.

Read More »

Posted in packing your bags | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Why Instagram is my favourite social media platform

By ad | Published: July 19, 2011

Oh, Instagram! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways… Or maybe just three.

1) Intimate.

The subjects that I choose to photograph using the Instagram app are chosen viscerally. They are the people, objects and places that make my heart leap, my stomach get fluttery and my mouth widen into a smile. There are some common threads – like my yoga skeleton adventures for AYM and another looking at how the setting sun touches the tops of buildings - but most of them simply capture whatever my wonder fell upon in that present moment. Like the red rubber boots opposite.

I cannot tell you why I was affected or identify which strings deep inside my brain were strummed. They just were.

Read More »

Posted in pretty flickering images, professional musings | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Ovarium: Getting over the sensory deprivation thing

By ad | Published: July 15, 2011

I won’t lie to you. I’ve been avoiding Ovarium for years.

Although I love spas and agree wholeheartedly that bodywork is necessary to general and long-term health, I was anxious about the enclosed nature of Ovarium baths. Even if I knew that I wasn’t obliged to close the lid. Even if my friends had assured me that it was a blissful experience.

But when I received a gift certificate from my dear friend Geeta Nadkarni, I decided to just face this silly fear. And it was a good thing.

Read More »

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Snippet of writing: Now that he is gone

By ad | Published: April 4, 2011

Now that he is gone, I have been searching for the gift he left me.

The gift that will last longer than pictures or notes. And I insist on calling it a gift, because I don’t want to walk away from this with the usual regret, or the lingering suspicion of all Sagittarius men, or panicked tics set off by a pair of hazel eyes.

I finally found it today on the street, as I left my mother’s house. I turned the corner and spotted Joe standing in front of the fruit shop. Collar of his orange windbreaker perked up. Plastic shopping bags weighing his arms down. Eyes cast upwards, nose and chin jutting at the same angle. Skin taut over his Adam’s apple. He was reading the specials in the window.

Read More »

Posted in words | Tagged | Leave a comment