Sardinia I.
It’s taken me some time to ease into my solo travel to Sardinia after a highly stressful 72 hours. I didn’t leave myself any leeway between decamp and jetting off - the only act that drew an invisible line between them was a 3-hour snooze on the sofa. I left my little London nest at 4 am, and an insulting £25 uber ride later - insulting it was for a 6 mins ride - I was slowly walking up on the platform at Blackfriars station, surrounded by the illuminated city, when the lights on Tower Bridge were turned off. One of London’s most symbolic facets became one with the early morning dim just when I was having an internal monolog about what was happening to me. I imagined this was all intentional and somebody wanted to symbolise how I was feeling deep down: the lights on this extremely significant chapter of my life are slowly turning off. It made me smile.
Been in Sardinia for 2 full days now and after the initial mind fog - no idea where I am, why I am here and anyway I should get some sleep - this cute little island is slowing bringing me back to life. I’ve been trying to eat, pray and love the sh*t out of Cagliari, but I regularly get stuck at the eating part. I’ve got some PTSD after my most recent work experience but I’m forcing myself to soak up my surrounding as opposed to letting my mind wonder to places that don’t even matter.
Cagliari boasts a topsy-turvy of golden-hued palazzi, domes and facades up to the rocky centrepiece, Il Castello. Although Tunisia is closer than Rome, Cagliari is just as passionately loud as mainland Italy. Regular Ciao Bella’s follow my journey across the city owning up to the famous Italian romanticism of women - yet I feel completely safe being here on my own.
I often turn mobile data off and get lost in a book. Or just sit and smile at strangers like I’m visiting from a different century. I love being offline. I love not following any maps and plans and ‘must do’s. I wonder around to see where I end up next… the life of an urban pilgrim, I guess.
