CCXXV - Flying out, Venerdi, 19 July 2019

I got up at the exact time of seven fifteen this morning, by myself, which gives you a sense of the kind of day it was going to be. I don't want to say that some days it's a wrestle to get ready and head out, but at least for today, there was a sort of expectancy in the air. At the same time, it's a travel day, and boy, oh boy, I hate travelling. I suppose one can hardly complain when it takes only sixteen hours to step off the plane some ten thousand kilometers away, without having to contend, as in days past, with rocking and swaying below decks, stale food, dank water, leg irons, perhaps, and all that sort of unpleasantness. But anyway. I packed well enough in the carry-on for the flight this time, so it wasn't so bad.

On the flight to Rome; I am excited. There's no mistake about it. At the same time, I feel like it is a little, well, not unseemly, but not quite altogether, a little careless, perhaps, to be too excited right now. In that sense, I am reserving a little level-headedness, a little healthy skepticism about being out here on total holiday; managing the expectations, in a way. Yes, I believe it's going to be beautiful, and I'm going to have a lovely time - but I want to be appreciative, I suppose, rather than exuberant, or absolutely carefree. I'm not sure what I'm driving at. In a sense, I feel that when one travels, being alone almost compels you to be a little more guarded, a little more reserved. In another sense, I feel that I will miss seeing my friend for a short while. We had a cheerful little coffee today, and she was feeling better.

Everything's sort of scheduled, so that's something off my mind. I don't have anything that looks like it could be a concern, so I suppose it's the usual travel caveats and mental precautions. Have to keep the guard up until it's safe-ish. I suppose, on the whole, the thing I'm mostly aiming for is to be relaxed when I'm out here, and I don't think I'll have a sense for it until I get off the plane and all that. The museums and all that sort of sacred places should be marvellous, and hopefully the accommodations will feel homely enough. If those two things are alright, then the rest of it will probably be a bonus. And I am looking forward to Knopfler. I hope of course to be pleasantly surprised by the food, and the weather, and the charms of each city.

I had a little shortlist of two books to bring with me on this trip - Frank Deford and Jorge Luis Borges. The Deford sportswriting is naturally easier on the eye, more charming to read, a little lighter entertainment. Well, as you can imagine, I took Borges. He's, how do you say, he's like Paco de Lucia, Vladimir Horowitz, Titian - he's the best. From the foreword to his Historia Universal de la Infamia (1935): 

"The essential characteristic of the universe is its emptiness. They are certainly correct with respect to the tiny part of the universe that is this book."

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I spent (in EUR):

329 - flight on Etihad Airways from Singapore to Rome, stopping over in Abu Dhabi