From Napoli, Italia

So, spending one week up in the mountains quickly went out the window after I spent all my cash on my way there and somehow expected to find an ATM in a village of 300. Actually, I went out of my way for something I really wanted to do only to find many things I ran away from -- no money, no internet, nothing to do, no one understands me, don't understand anyone, knocking on your door in the middle of the night for fear that you had too much to drink; that kind of thing. That's why I had to leave.

I had to drive to the coastal town of Agropoli to plan my escape; a 45-minute drive away, it was my nearest gateway to the internet.

The other Italian word (other than grazie) that's been pouring out of my mouth is dove (where); there is no word more useful when you're lost in Italy. The construction Dove è ... [say place's name and/or point to name on map]? is pretty much priceless. I used it plenty when I was trying to find Serramezzana, a village few outside of its 10-mile radius had heard of.

I made the Amalfi Coast drive -- windows down -- on the way to Naples. I don't know which I said to myself more along the way: "Wow..." or "Holy shit..."

Naples is a shady town. I'm actually in a nearby town called Portici. It's shady here, but some kid at the hostel tells me Naples is shadier. I'm staying here for two nights, thinking about hitting Pompeii tomorrow. I'll be back in the Eternal City for my final four days in Italy.

Also, worried that I had been taking too many pictures (I only have a 128-mb memory card from 2003), I discovered that my laptop has a CompactFlash reader. As a result of this fortuitous discovery, I'm able to share with you the following long before my return home. (Click for full-size originals.)

Serramezzana, where I stayed for two nights.


This is Agropoli. You ain't seen nothing yet.


That was so good that I wondered if I was high.


Coming down from the village. You can see the Amalfi Coast on the Sorrentine Peninsula on the other side of the Gulf of Salerno.


Greenery, coastal town, sea, sky. There is nothing more pleasant to the eye.


I kept pulling the car over and getting out to take pictures.


This is in Agropoli. I had to stop for this one.


The funnest drive ever begins. (I might have held my breath the entire way.)


This and the rest of the way: no caption will suffice.







Maiori, where I got the best ice-cream cone I have ever had.


When a tour bus turned a corner much tighter than this one coming the other way, I was pretty sure I was going to die.

An exercise of self-understanding

I once arrived at the conclusion that I only find enough motivation to blog when something significant/fascinating/cool has happened and my life is lame enough that I have nothing better to do than write about it. To that end, I'm pleased that entries are sparse.

I suppose I am here tonight in defiance of that conclusion. Indeed, I did something cool fairly recently -- going to Dubai with a group of good friends is pretty cool, but I understand that I'm not a good enough writer to do the trip any justice by writing about it. Besides, I'm certainly not in lame mode right now; my second semester in Qatar has kept me moving.

I'm not here to write about any of that.

For the last week or so, I've been harboring what may be a pretty cool idea. It'd be a long entry for my blog, actually.

I thought, what is life but a series of encounters with individuals (well, among other things). What a cool idea it would be list a few of them, maybe a hundred, maybe rank them, and write a paragraph or two about the impact each of them has had on me. It would be an exercise of self-understanding. So there would be no running into some of them in the future and realizing how much they mean to me but how few of my thoughts I have spared for them. So I will be able to look at them in the eye and think to myself, you have something to do with who I am, and I have not forgotten.

Perhaps significantly, I realize there are many from whom I have veered away, some consciously, some inadvertently. There are individuals whom I want nothing to do with, some who view life with bitterness and distaste, and some who embody everything I don't want to be. Nevertheless, even those who fall into these categories have had an undeniable hand in shaping the person I have become. Somehow, a peculiar satisfaction comes with the strange realization.

Ranking individuals would, of course, be strictly arbitrary. A cloud of people come to mind. If I were to spend days sifting through these individuals for a top-100, I would undoubtedly conclude that every one of them has had an impact on a different aspect of my life. Predictably, though, two names loom above the rest. Many who know me well would find them obvious: my father, who is dead, and Marianna, who I am certain will not stumble upon this.

I could write a book about each of them, although for neither I would know where to begin. I could write freely about both perhaps because both are lost, both just memories.

As for the rest, I realize I could not do the same. Not on a public forum such as this one, even if no one will read it. Perhaps it would be unfair. Maybe some of my thoughts are best kept to myself.

But maybe I will scribble it away somewhere anyway. I read last night that maybe "Adulthood is a glacier encroaching quietly on youth. When it arrives, the stamp of childhood suddenly freezes, capturing us for good in the image of our last act, the pose we struck when the ice of age set in." Maybe I'll write it while it's still worth writing about, while I may still wake up not believing anything I wrote the night before. I will be gone years from now and maybe someone will find it in my drawer.