Here we are.
Again.
We hate Rome. That's a fact.
But what is it that we don't hate exactly? We don't hate warm wind on our faces, darjeeling tea (made with filtered water and real leaves), compassionate people, organic farming when it's done for and by real, compassionate people, animals, food that doesn't make you feel terrible for whatever reason, the earth, the sea, trees, good books.
We drank a lot of tea made with stupid teabags and we read a lot of pretty good books. We met a couple of compassionate people and we saw some good trees.
But overall our trip was mostly a pretty sad thing. I almost never felt happy.
I sometimes questioned the act of travelling itself. It is something that I do a lot but rarely fully enjoy. It feels almost like something that I have to do, like a job, maybe my real job since I never had one.
If I had some kind of energy I'd maybe write stuff about what we did and blahblahblah.
But I don't.
