The Drawing of Three
I was having coffee with a friend shortly before taking this European trip. He asked if I had ascribed any themes and deeper meaning to the upcoming trip. I took a long sip from my cup of coffee, sighed, and waited a beat.
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged without looking up.
I’m always gonna to put a little extra attention into stuff like this. My overthinking/analyzing is where my ADHD is the most apparent (that, or when I song recognize comes on the background). Everything gets a little extra, even the movie blog recaps. Hell, the title to this thing alone is a direct nod to the second novel in Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, when the gunslinger’s adventure really starts, itself a tarot reference. Similarly, I had assigned a tarot card and song to each destination on this trip before realizing how hopelessly pretentious that was and discarding (no pun intended) the premise.
If you’ve been following this blog, you know my 20s were dominated by international travel. Coming out of grad school, that largely fell by the wayside in the face of career changes, breakups, death (that uncomfortably familiar bastard), and moving but I always knew it was coming back, just a matter of when. Having firmly settled into my apartment, paid off my student loans, and completely vested all my retirement funds, I figured it was time to stop preparing for tomorrow and enjoy today. With that in mind, I started planning a big return for the new year marking the return overseas.
The last time I was overseas was Latin America so Europe appeared the more natural choice; Asia is a bit too daunting to lead off with. The shortlist also included Belgium, France, Morocco (which I am aware is not in Europe), and Spain but the final three was eventually settled on Ireland, Italy, and the United Kingdom. It would be like a greatest hits; something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
Why the secrecy? It was never really a big secret, if I was hanging out with someone over the past month, I’d tell them straight up if they asked what I had coming up. I did try to play coy to a couple guys initially before fessing up after catching some side eye. I just didn’t see the need to telegraph the adventure; if you hadn't seen me, you could just find out with everyone else.
Percolating for months, I finalized everything a couple weeks before Christmas for the new year. I’m glad I hadn’t scheduled it for the winter break itself; unexpectedly accentuating circumstances had led to me hosting the family Christmas, plus that time of the year is really the only chance I get to see high school friends in town to visit their own families.
Ireland was always going to be the first one up. It just was. My paternal home country, an early trip to the Emerald Isle also established themes that would be explored more deeply in a bigger, much more ambitious, and much more personal trip later in the year. Another thing I wanted for the familiar locations was to remix them slightly to make it feel a bit newer. That new element in Dublin was hanging out with Mister Declan Shalvey. A prolific writer-artist I had befriended through the podcast and working the comic beat around the country, I reached out to Dec to get brunch while I was in town during his birthday weekend and he graciously agreed while proving himself once again to be one of the most generous guys I know. Afterwards, we walked through the back roads of the Irish capital, unfamiliar neighborhoods or neighborhoods I once briefly knew radically different thanks to the interim economic boom. I would've loved a little extra time everywhere but Dublin, perhaps, was the older location I was fascinated by the most because of how much it had changed. One afternoon stroll through the city and a couple pints of Guinness later to close things out, though, and I was back in the air.
Italy got the nod by virtue that I had never been there before, never field-tested the language, so it would serve as the centerpiece. And if I was going to go to Italy, I was going to go to Rome. One of the cool things about the Eternal City is that everything you really want to see is within a 2-3 mile radius of each other. And there was definitely a checklist of things to do and see but I also held firm on a commitment to allow myself to wander a bit, just lose myself to this new locale.
And I did. You know, the first thing I did after checking into my hotel that Saturday night was go out to get a quick dinner and drink before calling it a night as one does. I went into what appeared to be a quaint hole in the wall establishment only to discover I had stumbled into an Irish pub in the heart of Rome; I guess I have a sixth sense about these things (While I did get a pint, I did end up getting Italian somewhere else nearby immediately thereafter). By day, I would catch all the touristy things, see the popular sights, go into the shopping district and capitalize on that Italian fashion. By night, I would walk through near-deserted squares and landmarks, atmospherically lit with Christmas decorations still up in the background, upping the wintry ambiance in those winding, cobblestoned streets and alleyways. A lot of cities have a different feel or rhythm between day and night; just look at New York City, Tokyo, or Madrid. Rome is no different and it was all the better for it.
London made a logical bookend to this particular trip for several reasons. There's a strong familial connection there, it's the foreign city I've been to the most, and it's just generally one of my favorite places on Earth. My grandfather had lived there for a time, fell in love with the place, and took me and sister there as kids. I would later visit myself in my 20s multiple times, finding my own favorite spots and haunts through the British capital. Of all the locales I had time in, London I had the least. That was just enough time to go downtown, get lunch, and quietly walk through my grandfather's old neighborhood in St. John's Wood. It was serenely reflective way to end the trip, I didn't stop to take a whole hell of a lot of video or pictures before returning for that long transatlantic flight home.
So what's next? Well, I have a new translated book coming out next month so I should probably do something about that. I'm actually pretty excited about this one. I'll spare y'all the specifics right now but it's a Day of the Dead-themed western and it's something I translated into Spanish instead of the other way around. That might go down as the single biggest readership I’ll ever have...and that’s not the only thing I have coming. And there’s always the regular writing gig too; borne from work I had done with the podcast and the magazine, I’m now at a place where I can pitch the stuff I’d selfishly have wanted to read for myself. Exploring feminist themes in the Halloween franchise? The importance of biracial identity and multiculturalism in Aquaman? All stuff I pitched because they came from an interesting, personal place for me. They actually offered me an editorial position back in August...but the catch was it was for a nights and weekends editor. I like my nights and weekends. Not saying I would never take an editorial position but it just didn't feel right at the time. Getting the offer four months into the job was a nice affirmation that I was on the right track though.
One thing I tend to do when I play chess is seemingly make seemingly arbitrary moves until the board is set and I move into a more evident strategy. Paying off my student loans? Getting my own flat? Getting back into fighting shape? Parlaying the podcast and magazine into a regular entertainment writing job? All these disparate threads are all consciously part me of playing a longer game; it’s all building to something. Getting back into regular international travel is a big piece of that puzzle...but it’s not the final piece. Here's to the new year.
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged without looking up.
I’m always gonna to put a little extra attention into stuff like this. My overthinking/analyzing is where my ADHD is the most apparent (that, or when I song recognize comes on the background). Everything gets a little extra, even the movie blog recaps. Hell, the title to this thing alone is a direct nod to the second novel in Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, when the gunslinger’s adventure really starts, itself a tarot reference. Similarly, I had assigned a tarot card and song to each destination on this trip before realizing how hopelessly pretentious that was and discarding (no pun intended) the premise.
If you’ve been following this blog, you know my 20s were dominated by international travel. Coming out of grad school, that largely fell by the wayside in the face of career changes, breakups, death (that uncomfortably familiar bastard), and moving but I always knew it was coming back, just a matter of when. Having firmly settled into my apartment, paid off my student loans, and completely vested all my retirement funds, I figured it was time to stop preparing for tomorrow and enjoy today. With that in mind, I started planning a big return for the new year marking the return overseas.
The last time I was overseas was Latin America so Europe appeared the more natural choice; Asia is a bit too daunting to lead off with. The shortlist also included Belgium, France, Morocco (which I am aware is not in Europe), and Spain but the final three was eventually settled on Ireland, Italy, and the United Kingdom. It would be like a greatest hits; something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
Why the secrecy? It was never really a big secret, if I was hanging out with someone over the past month, I’d tell them straight up if they asked what I had coming up. I did try to play coy to a couple guys initially before fessing up after catching some side eye. I just didn’t see the need to telegraph the adventure; if you hadn't seen me, you could just find out with everyone else.
Percolating for months, I finalized everything a couple weeks before Christmas for the new year. I’m glad I hadn’t scheduled it for the winter break itself; unexpectedly accentuating circumstances had led to me hosting the family Christmas, plus that time of the year is really the only chance I get to see high school friends in town to visit their own families.
Ireland was always going to be the first one up. It just was. My paternal home country, an early trip to the Emerald Isle also established themes that would be explored more deeply in a bigger, much more ambitious, and much more personal trip later in the year. Another thing I wanted for the familiar locations was to remix them slightly to make it feel a bit newer. That new element in Dublin was hanging out with Mister Declan Shalvey. A prolific writer-artist I had befriended through the podcast and working the comic beat around the country, I reached out to Dec to get brunch while I was in town during his birthday weekend and he graciously agreed while proving himself once again to be one of the most generous guys I know. Afterwards, we walked through the back roads of the Irish capital, unfamiliar neighborhoods or neighborhoods I once briefly knew radically different thanks to the interim economic boom. I would've loved a little extra time everywhere but Dublin, perhaps, was the older location I was fascinated by the most because of how much it had changed. One afternoon stroll through the city and a couple pints of Guinness later to close things out, though, and I was back in the air.
Italy got the nod by virtue that I had never been there before, never field-tested the language, so it would serve as the centerpiece. And if I was going to go to Italy, I was going to go to Rome. One of the cool things about the Eternal City is that everything you really want to see is within a 2-3 mile radius of each other. And there was definitely a checklist of things to do and see but I also held firm on a commitment to allow myself to wander a bit, just lose myself to this new locale.
And I did. You know, the first thing I did after checking into my hotel that Saturday night was go out to get a quick dinner and drink before calling it a night as one does. I went into what appeared to be a quaint hole in the wall establishment only to discover I had stumbled into an Irish pub in the heart of Rome; I guess I have a sixth sense about these things (While I did get a pint, I did end up getting Italian somewhere else nearby immediately thereafter). By day, I would catch all the touristy things, see the popular sights, go into the shopping district and capitalize on that Italian fashion. By night, I would walk through near-deserted squares and landmarks, atmospherically lit with Christmas decorations still up in the background, upping the wintry ambiance in those winding, cobblestoned streets and alleyways. A lot of cities have a different feel or rhythm between day and night; just look at New York City, Tokyo, or Madrid. Rome is no different and it was all the better for it.
London made a logical bookend to this particular trip for several reasons. There's a strong familial connection there, it's the foreign city I've been to the most, and it's just generally one of my favorite places on Earth. My grandfather had lived there for a time, fell in love with the place, and took me and sister there as kids. I would later visit myself in my 20s multiple times, finding my own favorite spots and haunts through the British capital. Of all the locales I had time in, London I had the least. That was just enough time to go downtown, get lunch, and quietly walk through my grandfather's old neighborhood in St. John's Wood. It was serenely reflective way to end the trip, I didn't stop to take a whole hell of a lot of video or pictures before returning for that long transatlantic flight home.
So what's next? Well, I have a new translated book coming out next month so I should probably do something about that. I'm actually pretty excited about this one. I'll spare y'all the specifics right now but it's a Day of the Dead-themed western and it's something I translated into Spanish instead of the other way around. That might go down as the single biggest readership I’ll ever have...and that’s not the only thing I have coming. And there’s always the regular writing gig too; borne from work I had done with the podcast and the magazine, I’m now at a place where I can pitch the stuff I’d selfishly have wanted to read for myself. Exploring feminist themes in the Halloween franchise? The importance of biracial identity and multiculturalism in Aquaman? All stuff I pitched because they came from an interesting, personal place for me. They actually offered me an editorial position back in August...but the catch was it was for a nights and weekends editor. I like my nights and weekends. Not saying I would never take an editorial position but it just didn't feel right at the time. Getting the offer four months into the job was a nice affirmation that I was on the right track though.
One thing I tend to do when I play chess is seemingly make seemingly arbitrary moves until the board is set and I move into a more evident strategy. Paying off my student loans? Getting my own flat? Getting back into fighting shape? Parlaying the podcast and magazine into a regular entertainment writing job? All these disparate threads are all consciously part me of playing a longer game; it’s all building to something. Getting back into regular international travel is a big piece of that puzzle...but it’s not the final piece. Here's to the new year.
