Kumo Cafe: Traveling, Trekking, and Transcribing... Europe 2004

Jan 16, 2004 "I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker. I have seen the moment of my greatness fade. I have seen the eternal footman hold my coat and snicker. And in short, I was afraid." - Eliot (misquote)	Jan 29, 2004 We're leaving in just over a week. It seems strange now. I can remember planning this trip (though only vaguely planning, as the entire thing seemed - from the very beginning - more like an idealistic dream that many people have rather than anattainable reailty) a few weeks ago,

I could feel it coming from a long way off, the strange, creeping sensation of travel by plane - that unique, early morning pause before a start, pregnant with possibility, rife with uncertainty, looming, nervous, and somehow removed. Somehow numb. It didn't make sense at the time.

and it seemed like it would be forever until the date of our departure. Even then we didn't know where we would fly into - London or Paris. But we have changed things around and ended up with a very sketchy travel plan. Playing things by ear (and most likely holding onto our money by tooth and nail) once we arrive in Zurich, Switzerland

Why did I have that feeling? I wasn't about to jet set to an exotic or faraway locale. I was just awake in the morning, a little morose, pouring a cup of coffee, sitting with my father as he happened to be home, and then leaving for work.

Life is a strange thing. Perhaps this could be an argument in favor of there existing depth in time - a reality existing and shifting concurrently in the past, present, future and each instance slightly affecting the other until they form one conglomerate union (whole). Within a week, my job was cut and I was accepting an offer from an acquaintance to stay in England. My sister and I, vagabonds traveling across Europe. 2004 promises to be remarkable... but in what way?

the morning of the 7th. We have an apartment booked in Venice for that night, and the two following nights. After that, it is all up in the air. Our friend in England is awaiting us, but when exactly we will arrive there, we have no idea.
A friend of my sister's, Manu, is expecting us to be in Paris in early March, and now a gothic magazine in Portugal is excited that my sister - whom they asked to appear in their magazine - will actually be in Europe and have offered to pick us up as far as Madrid and take us the rest of the way to Portugal.
Already this trip is turning into a strange smorgasbord of sites and cultures, and we haven't even left the states. But the stress of uncertaintly and change is beginning to wear on us slowly, and we are pacing, awaiting the coming trip like pent up animals. Waiting for the ground to rush away from us, and the 'old world' to rush toward us. A week away. And we are nearly ready.