Travelers

Marte

view from a Norwegian wood

I met Marte at a drag party on a lake in Guatemala in 2009.  Drag parties are a little collegiate but I was staying at a hostel, after all.  We became fast friends – my long-lost Norwegian-Piscean sister.  Sandra is another friend I met through sheer luck and synchronicity.  I contacted her through another friend I had just met, this one in Colombia – I was eager to connect with people in Brazil when I visited in 2011 and knew only one guy, a photographer who had lived in New York for years and who had since gotten married and had several children.  When I emailed Sandra, I’d hoped we would meet for a coffee; she told me to come to her apartment from the airport and that we’d sort out my accommodations from there. . . so I did.  Within a half-hour of talking and drinking coffee in her kitchen, we discovered that not only did we get along famously, but that the one other person I knew in Brazil -- the photographer -- had been Sandra’s roommate when they were both living in New York.  The world is a handkerchief, as they say in Latin America.

Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo

Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo

Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo

Vanessa, Sandra's neighbor

These are the kinds of encounters that happen and friendships that are forged between people who have done some bouncing around the globe.  I used to think it was something more unique than it apparently is – I’ve learned from the rather unsavory world of online dating that ‘travel’ is an activity, hobby and passion of the majority of single men between 33-45 in the greater New York metropolitan region.  Who knows what that actually means – I think being a traveler is more of an approach to life than anything else.  There are people who have visited more places and perhaps done more adventurous or interesting activities while in those places than I have, for example.  Being a traveler is more about a type of openness to and curiosity about life and the world than it is about how many countries you’ve visited or mountains you’ve climbed or whatever.  It’s about following your instincts, and then enjoying the people and places to which you are led.  Being a traveler is about knowing how to enjoy yourself in the moment – and recognizing that skill as the highest art form.

While in Oslo last week -- between rides on the city bus and a visit to the deeply melancholic exhibit of the works of Edvard Munch in the National Gallery -- I spent quality time with both Sandra and Marte; Marte had just returned home after a trip to Mongolia, and Sandra moved to Oslo two years ago to be with the man she loves, a Norwegian she met in Sao Paolo.  Both of these women have followed their bliss and their curiosity where it has led them. 

Cagliari, Sardinia

Cagliari, Sardinia

La Peonia, Cagliari, Sardinia

Tonight I finished reading The Picture of Dorian Gray while eating dinner at the new place where I am now a regular here in Santa Teresa di Gallura – the northernmost town on the island of Sardinia, off the western coast of Italy.  I’ve been here twice before -- this time reached from the southernmost city on the island, Cagliari.  Sardinia is like Norway only insofar as it is surrounded entirely by the sea, as Norway is about two-thirds surrounded.  There, the similarities end.

Santa Teresa di Gallura, Sardinia

Reina Bianca, Santa Teresa

As Oscar Wilde himself argued through his character, Lord Henry, the only things worth pursuing in life are beauty and the fulfillment of the senses.  What better place to contemplate such assertions than the crystalline shores of the Coasta Smeralda in northern Sardinia.  Yesterday I followed a trail in the hills that I thought would deliver me to a particular landmark.  After ending up at same place a second time, I realized that while I continued to search, I had already arrived at the appointed destination – the destination was simply a view point, not an actual monument.  I considered this while descending the hill back into town.

A friend from Berlin met me here to enjoy the last days of summer, and we saw wild boars and mountain goats – both in one night. . .then we ate them for dinner at an incredible agriturismo restaurant outside of town. 

Now I’m thinking about hedonism and Wilde’s philosophies as expressed through his characters in Dorian Gray.  I’m not prepared to sell my soul for eternal youth, so I think for the moment I’m in the clear on that count.  Wilde also says that anything is a pleasure if one does it too often. . . which I suppose means we should be mindful of what we do frequently -- lest those activities become pleasures.