One of the last memories I have of the Adriatic Sea is standing on its rocky shore in Trogir, Croatia, bending down and picking up a smooth stone to take back to America with me. To place on my grandmother’s freshly dug grave. It was a beautiful day in September. Blue sky. Bluer water. And,Continue reading “Mourning and the Adriatic”
There are few places in the world I refer to as “paradise.” Very few. Solta, Croatia is one of them. A 45-minute ferry ride from the charming city of Split, this little technicolor island is void of tourists. Here, you can get a sweet taste of the slow island life and enjoy everything from fresh-pressedContinue reading “Daily Wanderlust: the tranquility of Solta, Croatia”
“Touch your finger in this water and you touch the world,” Danica said, stretching her body over the side of the little boat we were in and sticking her fingers into the cool, clear water of the Adriatic. Katie, David and I did the same, leaning over the sides of the boat and dipping ourContinue reading “Fishing the world”
I left my bag at the chair — it felt perfectly safe to do so and my passport and important documents and valuables were locked safely away back at Green Lizard — and got into the water.
It was chilly. Not as chilly as the night before when Shaun and I had gone in, but it was still pretty cool until you got used to it, which took a few mintes.
I swam for about 10 minutes and then got out, choosing to lay down and have some quiet, alone time with myself.
I closed my eyes, letting the sun’s warmth soak up my body, and just thought. And, then, something happened.
For the first time in my life, when I was laying there, I was able to chase away the negative thoughts, the thoughts that rained on my Croatian parade.
I had made it my goal to go outside of my comfort zone, and this certainly did just that.
So, I did what any slightly intoxicated traveler in a foreign land would do — hastily removed all of my clothes, threw them on the sidewalk next to the water, and, along with Shaun, plunged into the inky black sea.
The first thing I felt was bliss.
The second thing I felt was the cold water seeping into my pores.
The third thing I felt was pain.
“I recon you and I are one of the lucky ones. There is only a small percentage of people in this world, D, that have the wealth. And you and I? We are the lucky people. We are people who have this wealth. And, as people who have this wealth, we have to do something,” he had commented. “When I am an old man, I am not going to sit there and count how much money I had, or look at a wall of all of my achievements. Those things don’t make me happy. When I am an old man,” he said, “I want to be able to look back at my life and know that I did something to make a difference. I helped someone. I was as happy as I could ever possibly be. And I didn’t need wealth, or a nice home, or a white fence, to get me to that point. I want to know that I did everything in my power to live.”