I’m trying to find my way (again)to the kind of blogging I want to do here, and it’s been hard to find a rhythm. The kind of displacement I’m experiencing is a privilege, as I’m very aware, and it’s the result of a deliberate (if perhaps overly impulsive) choice (that would be the privilege!). Nonetheless, this privileged choice exacts its price, and there are days (and many nights!) when I’m anxious or feeling low.
It can be hard to find a balance here: there’s a push to take advantage of Rome while we can (out by 10, walking, gallery-visiting, taking the bus across the city to visit a favourite spot; shall we make the trek to try that restaurant we learned of on Instagram?); but then countering that by slowing down occasionally leads right past a recharging to an amorphous kind of discontent, a sense of being unproductive, of time suspended without the resources and the schedule that we count on to provide “purpose” at home.
And then the disruption of the trips we’ve been making partly because we can quite easily from this European base, partly because we have to, in order to comply with Schengen rules. I’ve been here for over two months now. . . and I have almost two months still before I head home. So far, we’ve visited several places in England (including a week on the Southwest Coast Path in Cornwall), Wales, Scotland (Well, Edinburgh, anyway), and Serbia (a week in its capital city, Belgrade).
At the moment, we’re enjoying a week together before a daughter and niece come to visit, then our son’s family for a week. (All the way through our time here, we’ve enjoyed occasional visits with our Roman ex-pats, although we’re further apart commuting-wise than I’d figured on. Rome’s a big city!) After that, we’re here on our own another week before we make one more trip (more on that later, I like to save some surprises ;-)) and then shortly after that we’ll head home. . .
So there’s Good and the Bad (to use reductive terms!) for this septuagenarian on this ambitious trip — and while I might prefer having only the former, I’m doing my best to embrace both.
I read something on Suleika Jaouad’s Instagram recently. You might remember that I wrote something about her book, her cross-country road trip in the wake of a devastating diagnosis and course of chemotherapy. Now, facing a return to chemo years later, she reminds herself of the power of that creative and ambitious journey, of taking risks, embracing change. She says,
I was 27, and I felt as lost and untethered as I’d ever been. But I hoped this road trip would allow me to “live the questions,” as Rilke advised. The night before I left, I couldn’t sleep—and my anxiety only increased when my first move was driving the wrong way down a one-way avenue in Midtown Manhattan. To this day, that road trip is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done—but it’s one of the things I’m proudest of, and it was life-altering. It led to so many unexpected things, and good ones, like my memoir Between Two Kingdoms, along with lifelong friendships that emerged from my time on the road.
With my recent return to chemo, I’m trying to remind myself that the unknown can be scary, but it also contains an element of adventure, an opening for something fresh and new. That sense of possibility is often eclipsed by all the negative connotations of the unknown. But rather than indulge the fears, I’m trying to focus on the adventure part. I’m telling myself, “This is a good time to make changes, to take new risks.”
I have never faced serious illness nor have I ever embarked on as bold an adventure as Ms. Jaouad’s; nonetheless, I recognize something of her admonitions and exhortations in my impetuous proposition of a long-ish break from our domestic quotidian (even if, yes, once here, we work toward establishing another pattern of daily comforts).
And perhaps it’s a stretch to equate a septuagenarian’s increased awareness of old age and mortality with a twenty-something’s diagnosis of incurable cancer, but I feel some resonance with that young woman’s insistence that “survival is a creative act.” The change that travel presents powers up a vulnerability that emphasizes a need for both survival and creativity.
My hourglass is running out, so I will leave these thoughts to stew on this page for now in favour of meeting Paul for a walk across Rome to visit a botanical garden on a hill. Before I go, let me tell you that besides the Good and the Bad of an extended Couple Trip, there is sometimes the Ugly. Yes, even a couple that has spent 50 years together can have difficult and hurtful arguments — sometimes over the most banal moments, often erupting out of something inconsequential.
And Ugly as these incidents can be, I have learned to appreciate the time and space afforded by being so far outside of our normal realm of obligations and sustaining schedules. Sometimes, reconciliation happens just by letting this time and space do their gentle work. Sometimes (as we experienced earlier this week), it takes more effort, more faith in the painful process.
No need to provide more details, but suffice it to say that we walked out one morning this week with my eyelids swollen, my eyes red-rimmed. Not yet reconciled, but moving towards that potential as we agreed to go out for cappuccini and cornetti at a favourite spot in a nearby park.
Explanations, apologies, resolutions. Not all at once. Not miraculously effective. But the pastry and the good coffee and the surroundings and the somewhat shy but charming server who agrees with me that le piccole mosche sono cosí fastidiose (the little flies are so annoying), but reminds me, with a gentle “what can you do?” shrug, Si, ma dopo tutto siamo in un parco (Yes, but after all, we’re in a park). . . all these elements together with time and space, and we’re holding hands as we walk away to make a circuit of the expansive grounds.
We’ve visited other corners of the park before, and I’ve sketched a few of its buildings, but what is this we’ve found, at the furthermost point from where we normally enter. Is it a mosque? a church? But how would that make sense in the former home of a wealthy banker (to the Vatican) and minor noble, Giovanni Torlonia? As we’ve discovered, Giovanni and then his son, Alessandro, brought some ambitious architectural projects to the Torlonia family’s property.
And Alessandro’s projects were increasingly fanciful. There’s a large theatre, an orangerie, and also a very embellished “Swiss Hut,” several obelisks, a Tower, Tournament Field, and a “Moorish Grotto.” (And then when Mussolini rented the villa from the Torlonia family for one lira a year, he eventually added a bunker — now open to the public as a museum. We haven’t visited. . . yet.)
Should you wish to learn more of the history both of the original construction of this bit of Alhambra in the middle of Rome and of its neglect, decay, and eventual recent reconstruction, you could visit this useful site. We were guided through by a museum employee — whose remarks were helpfully amplified and complemented by a gentleman from Milan who’d grown up nearby and played in the park as a youngster and had come back specifically to marvel at this restoration.
We finished our tour of the dining area, left the tower, and made our way into the building whose interior had first enticed us to pay the museum admission. Turns out that the sign could have satisfied my curiosity at the outset, if only I’d consulted Google for a translation from Italian to English of the word “Serra.” A Greenhouse. And this is a Serra Moresca, a Moorish Greenhouse. Or, at least, an “artistic” 19th-century principe’s idea of such. . .
With two Canadian septugenarians in its mirror, having decided they might stick together for Year 51 after all. . .
I sat for a while and sketched one of those chairs. Very clever botanical design, no? And they’re comfortable.
Just another morning in Rome. . . .after which we ambled off to find lunch, took a few wrong turns, but found a perfect spot just around the corner, having only needed to open our umbrellas for the last block or two. . .
It seems to me, reading back through what I’ve written, that this post has taken shape somewhat as did Tuesday morning. Some ups and downs, a detour or two, some purposeful wandering, some serendipity, and . . . I hope you’ll find, some worthwhile moments. Done now, I’ll be pleased to read your responses, even just a “hello” and a wave to let me know I have company. We’re all travelling, changing, weathering challenges, aren’t we? In one way or another.
xo,
f
p.s. for those of you who might be wondering about the missing Book Post for August, with September’s coming due as well. . . .I’m wondering, as well, but will do my best to get a truncated version online soon.
All sounds normal to me . Tired people having a dispute & getting over it is normal . Well it is in our house ! I’ve not seen that lovely building before . You are finding some secret little places . Hope you have a great time with your family .
Author
Thanks Wendy! Normal in our house as well!
We’ve all been there… Have you been to the Botanic Garden in Largo Cristina. We climbed up to the top to look at the Japanese area and any thought of conflict was forgotten when the one o’clock gun went off right behind us!
Author
Yes, we were in the Botanical Garden on Wednesday — missed the 1:00 gun, although we were there about that time! (Maybe we’d headed higher up the hill by then, wanting to pay my regards to heroic Anita! 😉
“survival is a creative act” I like that thought and will have to ponder it further.
The only times we’ve been away from home for months at a time were when we taught English in Japan and later, in China. In those instances, we had jobs to give structure to our days. As retirees, even at home, we have to create that structure or routine ourselves and I can imagine that that would be much more difficult in a temporary foreign environment.
It is said that traveling together is good for a marriage and I believe it is, but it can definitely have its tense moments too. I’m glad your relationship is strong enough to weather those and that on that unhappy Tuesday morning you found such a beautiful place to share with us. The colours, the shapes, and especially those stained glass windows would definitely lift my spirits.
Author
If you’re interested in the concept of survival as a creative act (and especially as one who’s living with cancer), you might want to read Jaouad’s memoir Between Two Kingdoms — and the documentary she and her musician husband Jon Batiste made together, American Symphony.
Part of me has always yearned for an ex-pat life, and that was never realistic (or I never wanted it enough to make it so?). In some ways, this trip probably arose out of that yearning, and of course it’s too temporary to meet those expectations. Your teaching in Japan and China would have given you not only structure but meaningful connections. I envy that, even knowing that it must have been difficult.
And yes, traveling together bonds but also creates stress. Weathering toughens? In a good way? 😉
Would you pretty please bring one of those scrumptious green chairs home for me?
Author
Ha! They’re great, aren’t they?!
Thank you for remaining vulnerable and real. I love your writing and always find a little of something of myself in them. After 34 years of marriage, I still find times when I feel my spouse doesn’t really know me nor I him. I suppose it is somewhat of a blessing that we can still surprise each other, but most times it is in unpleasant ways. Like your conflict, we weather through but it catches me off guard. Every. Single. Time.
Love the pictures and the beautiful architecture. Thank you for sharing!
Author
Yes! It can be really unpleasant, a gap opening right across assumptions that were decades old and seemed so secure. “we weather through but it catches me off guard. Every. Single. Time” Absolutely! Well put. I think in part that speaks to how profoundly those idealized cultural narratives about love and marriage have settled into our hearts, minds, and bodies. . . There should be warning labels 😂
So wonderful to see the less travelled parts of Rome through your artist’s eye, thank you. My daughter spent 4 days there in August and adored it. She studied Ancient History in high school and was blown away when she accidentally came across a seemingly unpretentious bit of land, with a simple sign on it saying it was thought to be the site where Julius Caesar was killed. No big fanfare, no pretension, so amazing and so reassuringly Italian!
Travel can unleash many uncertainties, and lay bare unpleasant emotions and poor behaviours that are well-disguised by the comfort of our usual routines. I speak from personal experience 😂 I greatly appreciate your thoughtful, thought-provoking and carefully-crafted writing, here and on IG. So generous, like a soothing chat with a friend where there is no need to pretend that all is well, all the time, x
Author
Oh, how wonderful for your daughter! I know what she means, there’s an interesting mix here of nonchalance and pride and maybe even impatience with the archaeological manifestations of a long, long history on almost every corner of the city.
Thanks so much for all the kind words — much appreciated, encouraging.
Such beautiful pictures! The longest time my husband and I have spent together in Europe was 6 weeks a few years ago. The lack of structure was surprisingly hard during the last couple of weeks. We felt lucky to be there and enjoyed all the sights, but it was hard to have the sense of purpose we normally have at home. Plus we missed people back home and missed our dog.
Your photos are beautiful- I can tell I will be coming back to them!
Author
Sounds as if you know what I mean. We’re a bit used to it by now (have done 8 or 10-week stints a few times), but there’s always a point when it hits. My husband has developed a theory about the way this challenge slows time down, and he considers that a big benefit at our age, when it seems to be whizzing us too quickly onward . . . (sometimes I agree, sometimes I counter that making my bread at home slows time down as well and that’s where I want to be! 😉
What a wonderful post, the form of it captured exactly the sensations of being away from home for an extended visit somewhere, periods of joy and feeling adventurous interspersed with tetchy arguments and being discombobulated. We’ve been together for 41 years and I’m actually pleased that we can still make each other incredibly happy but also very upset, it’s far better than the mutual indifference I see in some other longstanding relationships which seem to chug along on parallel tracks.
Author
Thanks, Maureen! I’m glad you enjoyed the form of the post (I know I meandered a bit!)
What a good point, and I have to agree with you — It is positive “that we can still make each other incredibly happy but also very upset” — I do prefer that to “mutual indifference.”
As always you show us hidden gems of beauty which one might ordinarily miss. Your disagreement seems normal given that travel, no matter how enjoyable, has it’s stresses, particularly when it is extended and you are away from a home you love.
Author
Thanks Darby! I know that what I focus on is idiosyncratic, so I’m glad some readers appreciate that.
Thanks Frances for your posts. I love living all your adventures with you. I am sorry you were away for my “80th” birthday party. It was pretty wild and wonderful. Sending lots of good wishes to you and Paul. Hope you come to Protection Island to visit on your return to BC ! xx
Author
You’re very welcome, Marian! Thanks for visiting. We do wish we could have come to your 80th — Wild and wonderful — why doesn’t that surprise me, knowing your “mode de vivre” — Brava! And yes, I hope to get back to PI one on these days, not just in my dreams. xo
At first sight of that building I wondered if you had made a trip to my favourite country Spain. It’s an intriguing interpretation of moorish style. Good for the locals that it was restored rather than knocked down as I fear would be likely in many places. I’m also coveting those gorgeous green chairs.
We had several tense moments during our extended sojourn in Malta, inevitable I think given the time spent together. I also gained a different perspective on my husband as he relaxed back into the place he grew up in and I realised that some traits were cultural rather individual.
Congratulations on your fifty years, our fiftieth is next year! It seems incredible doesn’t it?
Author
Yes, I think “intriguing interpretation” is a fair assessment😂
So interesting about having that opportunity to see the origin of some of your husband’s traits.
And absolutely — incredible! how could it be 50 years?!
Thank you for writing honestly of the changes and challenges in your life. I think we all have chapters in our lives with great upheaval and change, chapters of settled routines and many chapters of navigational hurdles between the two. Covid, then a cancer diagnosis, threw my retirement plans completely off the rails. My straight-forward story suddenly had a twist that I never saw coming. Ms. Jaouad said “Survival is a creative act” and, certainly, surviving cancer is a great milestone in any life story. But, I’ve come to realize that “survival” was a turning point in my story. Post-cancer therapy, I was weak, fatigued and a bit lost. I joined a cancer exercise/support group called “cancer thrivers”, a group of people who are not just “survivors”, but people thriving in and past cancer treatment. Recently, a clinical psychologist spoke with our group and challenged us with her topic “Creating your new story … grief, loss, and new identity”. None of us are the same after cancer treatment, or after great loss, or any other life-altering event. I think it is a very creative and brave thing to move on and write the next chapter of our lives
Author
You’re very welcome — and congratulations to you to have done so well in your cancer journey and beyond.
I’m concerned that I must somehow have mischaracterized Suleika Jaouad’s use of this powerful phrase. Well worth reading her book to see how much further her notion of survival goes than what that word connotes for most of us. There’s a great article about her in The Atlantic. She is unlikely ever to get beyond her cancer treatment, given her diagnosis, but she continues to create amazing new chapters in her life. Sounds as if you are doing this as well — very brave and creative indeed!
Lovely (and welcome) pause during my balcony renovation!
Three weeks of rain postponed the schedule and now it’s a bit of rush and stress….can’t concentrate enough for reading ,but looking at beautiful photos and enjoying a day in Rome with you, is just what I needed ( and I have to be very polite with my handymen, because all the good ones are busy or gone abroad-even when they didn’t calculate well to have enough material and we have to wait for the additional delivery-a good argument would help,but I know that it’s better to be quiet, with handymen,a partner is a different story :))
Dottoressa
Author
I read your comment to Paul . . . and you got a big chuckle from him when I got to the last line 😉 (Both of us sympathize with you having to be careful how you deal with the handymen — that’s tough!
Sigh, I’ve tried three times but I can’t say what I want to… it’s about ‘unproductive’ time while travelling…I’ll have to keep thinking…some day while we’re talking about something else it may burst forth!
Just a side note but when you first talked about leaving Schengen I fell into a pleasant fantasy about going south (from Italy) and drifting around the northwest corner of Africa for a bit. This fantasy includes some tricky time travel, sudden language fluency, and an imaginary companion who knows the territory. But it is fun to think about.
Author
I hope you figure out what you were going to say — I could use some big nudges to get myself out of this kind of thinking. We’re so conditioned by our immersion in a capitalist society. . . I do try to tell myself that even storing up restlessness is a kind of productivity that will show up eventually, but then I’m still thinking it terms of needing an identifiable product! Whoops! 😉
Yes! That is a pleasant fantasy! We were going to get to Tunisia with our son-in-law guiding the way (he’s spent considerable time in Africa for his work) and that didn’t work out this time — but watch this space. . .
Your unvarnished account is very wonderful—I don’t know how so much of what is posted on line pretends that everything is always “practically perfect”! Life in partnership is an opportunity for learning, eh?
Author
Oh, Linda! You got that right! But somedays, such opportunities, who wants them?! Ha!
Thank you for sharing your travels. You certainly have a lot of stamina. I say walk here there everywhere while you can. Every so often something quirky happens and my walking gets curtailed – most annoying. Hurtful arguments – they happened in the past and will happen again – the main thing is life goes on and there is lots to enjoy. The end of your time away will be approaching – will there be a short leisurely cruise as a wrap up? Italian spas – I friend had over a month in Italy and she went to one – so relaxing.
Thank you for this post. This is a long time to be away from home! And unexpected side benefits, it’s helpful to hear that it’s not black and white, i.e. long marriage = constant bliss and divorce = utter depraved misery. I’m exaggerating, but your honesty is rare and in fact makes the joys of a long marriage seem more attainable and more heartfelt.