Pizza and ice cream are good for the soul

After spending a good few days in the mountains, I was ready for a change of scenery. And I’ve been wanting to go to Venice with my love for quite some time now. This was the perfect opportunity. 

The drive from the Tre Cime di Lavaredo to Venice was hot – at 10:30am it was 29 degrees, and by lunch time it had reached 40 degrees. It’s no wonder then that, after checking in at our campsite in Fusina, we jumped straight on to a “vaporetto” (a water bus – Venice’s method of transportation) to go to the Venice Lido. We figured a spot of sunbathing and a dip in the water would be both relaxing and cooling. The Lido, however, was not quite as nice as we imagined.

But all was not lost, I insisted. It was only early evening and we still had plenty of time to save the day. 

We made the speedy decision to get the next vaporetto to Venice, in search of our first gelato. Arriving in Venice was like discovering the promised land (if this promised land comes with swarms of tourists). The canals and bridges were quaint and picturesque, and the gondolas made everything look like a romantic postcard. We saw – much to our delight – gelatarias all over the place.

Already the day was saved.

And then there was our first gelato – Florian had yogurt and pineapple, and I had coconut and pineapple (over the next 2 days we also tried lemon, apple, melon, Malaga (rum and raisin) and crema catalana). It was beyond delicious, and today – before we start heading off towards Croatia – we are going to go on the vaporetto one last time to Venice and have one last gelato. 

During the long drive to Venice earlier in the day, I kept talking about my need for pizza and ice cream – I figured one out of two wasn’t bad for the first day. But then on our way to the Piazza San Marco we discovered a tiny, almost miss-able, hole in the wall selling pizza by the slice. For €8.30 we had two huge slices of delicious pizza, a beer and an iced tea.

Two out of two.

It was then, on that first day in Venice, that I reached the conclusion that pizza and ice cream are good for the soul. There we were, sitting in the Piazza San Marco and admiring the Basilica di San Marco, feeling content with life. 

The next day we did much the same – we walked around the labyrinthine streets of Venice, crossing the canals, admiring the boats, and eating gelato at every opportunity we got. Venice can be an extraordinarily expensive city, though we were able to navigate our way through the city’s charm and away from the obvious tourist traps without doing too much damage to our modest wallets.

And, as Ernest Hemingway said in A Moveable Feast, “We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other”. This is exactly what we intend to do for the next 3 months… and, of course, for the rest of our lives. 

Tre Cime di Lavaredo

We felt Italy long before we crossed the Austrian/Italian border. The air grew warmer, the sun seemed brighter, and we even spotted a few palm trees. We were headed south and the sun was our guide.

I often think of Florian and I as two sunflowers – always turning to face the sun, always seeking it out, always needing it to survive. In fact, the first flower that Florian ever gave me was a sunflower, and I was so pleased that it was more original and thoughtful than a conventional rose!

 

Anyway, back to Italy. Having recently been on a grand hiking expedition in St Ulrich (Tirol), we were well-prepared for the relatively relaxed hike around the Drei Zinnen/Tre Cime di Lavaredo (the “3 peaks” which ambiguously find themselves in Austrian territory, but technically situated in Northern Italy), which took around three and a half hours of walking time – though we did take a few breaks for snacks, water and the obligatory shameless posing for the camera in front of the 3 peaks.

 

It was a magnificent walk, with beauty in every single direction. The 3 peaks – the central attraction – are, of course, breathtaking, but I was equally enamoured by the beauty of the surrounding mountains and valleys, the richness of the colours and the way in which the sun made everything glow.

It was a swelteringly hot day, though, and this made the walk seem like much more of an effort. Every step I took made me acutely aware of the weight of my hiking shoes, of my rucksack, of myself even.

But I would recommend this trip to anyone. My words cannot do it justice (though I hope the pictures can) – particularly the way in which the 3 peaks appeared to change with every new angle. Walking around them felt like seeing something new every 10 minutes, and each new perspective was as breathtaking as the last.

We parked our campervan right in front of the 3 peaks, and in the evening enjoyed the most scenic views – which went perfectly with our evening wine (something that seems to be becoming a habit!). And waking up to the 3 peaks was an extraordinary and humbling feeling. It reminded me how much there is to see in the world, and how little I still know about it all, having sealed myself into the bubble of London city life.

Still, whilst the girl (me) may have been taken out of the city, it is hard to take the city out of the girl. For example, all of this natural beauty didn’t stop me from screaming like a little girl when a frog landed on my hiking boot during our hike in Austria. And camping life – particularly as a camping virgin up until now – has not stopped me from taking time out to paint my nails and engage in other such “glamping” (glamour camping, apparently) activities.

And anyway, we are now in the romantic capital Venice – surrounded by gelato and canals – and I feel very much at home even though the city is not mine. But I will leave details of Venice for my next post.

Until then, ciao!   

The importance of being brave

Yesterday, there was no chasing of the sun, not at all. Yesterday, the sun came straight to us. The morning light was so bright that it was verging on celestial. It was almost as if the rays of the sun came knocking on our window to wake us up personally.

Like any other Monday morning, we rose at 7am. But instead of the usual wedge-heeled sandals or brogues and skinny jeans that I often sport, I opted for hiking boots and waterproof, lightweight hiking trousers. I had a rucksack, instead of my usual leather satchel, containing all kinds of essentials – including an extra pair of socks. I was told I might need these if I fell into a creek (but, surely, if I fell into a creek I would have far bigger problems than wet feet?).

We started our journey up the mountain (the “Schiederbirg” – Tirol, Austria) at around 9.30am. I was excited, and terrified, all at the same time. I had no idea what lay ahead, and even less clue how I would cope in tricky situations. Florian, though, was fearless. An experienced mountain hiker, he glided up the mountain with confident, easy strides. Our journey was one that he knew well, having completed it many times during his younger years.

Surprisingly, the ascent – though inevitably more exhausting – was easier than the descent. Going up, my energy levels were bursting, as was my enthusiasm. My confidence grew quickly, and my excitement even quicker. We climbed through dense areas with many trees and little sunlight, as well as brighter, clearer patches of grass dotted with yellow, pink and white flowers. At our peak, we climbed up 500m, and settled for a picnic and a nap at a beautiful spot with awe-inspiring views of the bigger, more dramatic mountains.

Waking up after 45 minutes was unsettling. Opening my eyes and remembering where we were, looking around and – terrifyingly – looking down threw me. During our ascent, I felt that I had found my centre of gravity – and I was braver for it. Taking the occasional look down was scary, no doubt, but I was invincible, because I was centred. I did not internalise this courage during my sleep, and waking up was like restarting. I had lost my centre, and my bravery had gone with it.

It made me wonder why it is that we internalise fear more easily and quickly than courage. And, worse still, what other things I was failing to internalise in my every day life. Was life really just like groundhog day – waking up and starting all over again each day?

No matter how afraid I was, and how unsteady, we had to go down the mountain and back into the valley. It took us a long time, for I was petrified. We had to cross creeks on our way, and this involved taking chances on makeshift bridges that looked far too unsteady to take our weight. With nothing but panic in my eyes and dread in my stomach, I took God’s name and followed Florian. He held my hand the entire way back down, and offered nothing but words of comfort and confidence.

Of course, we made it. We were tired, and sore, but triumphant. I don’t think I had ever felt so proud of myself, of my physical ability – in which I had so very little faith. It made me realise that I was, in fact, quite brave. And it made me realise that the presence of fear does not detract from one’s ability to be brave. Rather, facing fear – head on – with courage, confidence and faith is what it means (for me, at least) to be brave.

Yesterday, I learnt the importance of being brave.

And today? Well, to celebrate our achievement, we took it easy. It was another gloriously sunny, hot day, and we spent it relaxing in the sunshine. I had my sunglasses, a good book (“The Paris Wife” by Paula McLain, which looks at the early years of Ernest Hemingway before he found literary fame) and the feeling of endless opportunity. 

Starting small

I don’t want to start this post off by talking about the weather, as that would be so very British of me. And I guess my observation is more about the air than the weather, per se. Away from London smog, my senses are heightened. My nose, my lungs and my spirit are all very aware of the freshness of the air – clean, revitalising and intoxicating. Surrounded by mountains, freshly cut grass and nature at its purest, we find ourselves here – our first stop – in St Ulrich am Pillersee in Tirol, Austria. Here it is quaint, untouched and beautiful. There is space to exist, there is time to think, and there is inspiration everywhere you look. Life moves at a much slower pace here, though time continues to race – speeding away, taking us with it, reminding us to make the most of every single day that we have. Already I can feel the stress of city life ebbing away, and I am embracing this new way of living: it is calm, it is patient and it is peaceful. 

 

Today we went on our first hike – it was a one and a half hour trip around a picturesque hill called ‘Unterberg’, the smallest hill in this small village. It was an easy trip, covering approximately 5 Kilometres. The landscape was varied, as was the weather. We saw dark forests, imposing mountains – the peaks of which were obscured by the lingering fog, and vast expanses of the greenest grass, dotted with cows grazing peacefully. We crossed questionably sturdy bridges, from which we enjoyed magnificent views of powerful streams crashing into jagged rocks. And all this beauty today was just the beginning – a teaser, if you like – before our grand journey into the mountains tomorrow, where we will embark on a 6-7 hour hike, exploring the glorious mountains of this scenic little village.

Until then, we are lucky enough to be staying in our beautiful family home here in the valley. The ‘camping’ part of our journey is yet to begin, as we ease ourselves slowly into our new way of nomadic life. Enjoying the comforts of this perfectly located hut – the terrace with a breathtaking view of the mountains, the welcoming interior, and the warmth and comfort of a home that only family members can bring – only adds to what is a wonderful start to our trip.  

All it took was a song

Some years ago I discovered the musical wonder that is Belle and Sebastian. And one song in particular - "Asleep on a sunbeam" - stayed with me. I would listen to it on the bus on my way to university and, some years later, on my way to work. Most days, this journey would be tedious, grey and rainy. London, in all its glory, would be reduced to a commute - soulless, uninspiring and monotonous. This song, though, would make me smile - every time, believe it or not - and I would spend much of the journey dreaming about going on an adventure with my love.

And tonight, here we are, packing and preparing for our adventure. Having given up our jobs, our home and life as we know it, we are embarking on a journey that will take us right across Europe and away from the mundane. Our plan is to visit Austria, Croatia, Greece, Italy, Switzerland, France and Spain. The initial idea was to explore Scandinavia, but we decided to follow the sun... and it's taking us south.

Follow us here, at Chasing the sun, to explore Europe with us. We hope to share with you our discoveries - food, landscapes, cities, inspiration - and much more.

Also, if you're interested in this life-changing song I was telling you about, click here to listen to it on YouTube. And if you're really lazy, here are the lyrics (disclaimer: you cannot hold me responsible if, after hearing this song, you give up your job, buy a campervan and embark on the greatest adventure of your life)...

When the half light makes for a clearer view
Sleep a little more if you want to
But restlessness has seized me now, it's true
I could watch the dreams flicker in your eyes
Lying here asleep on a sunbeam
I wonder if you realise you fascinate me so

Think about a new destination
If you think you need inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a pin
I will follow every direction
Just lace up your shoes while I'm fetching a sleeping bag, a tent...
Another summer's passing by
All I need is somewhere I feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand, a fire I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete

I thought about a new destination
I'm never short of new inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a gin
Made my plans to conquer the country
I'm waiting for you to get out of your situation
With your job and with your life

All I need is somewhere I feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand
A fire, I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete