Oh, how beautiful is Panama

no no, I'm not in Panama...I'm at home. Happy, content, and appreciative to be back home.

But I found it such a beautiful metaphor when I sat by my beloved home lake (Lake Constance) on the evening of my arrival and watched the sunset.

A friend paddled by and spontaneously sat down next to me. When asked about my vacation, I told him about my exciting trip with all the stops, encounters, conversations, and landscapes that I experienced...including admitting that the most beautiful sunset is still here. Listening attentively, Felix replied after my stories, 'oh, how beautiful is Panama'...
(for all non-'Janosch' readers... https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oh,_how_beautiful_is_Panama)

It's been a few days since I finished my journey. My last day at Lake Maggiore didn't turn out to be too exciting. I knew it would be hot today and I hadn't been swimming much in the past days. So I decided to take a walk to the nearby beach and let the sun shine on my belly.

Said and done.
Well, what can I say. As expected, there were, like everywhere in Italy, the finest beach chairs and umbrellas, lined up like sardines. I don't want to complain...this comfort was very convenient for my long day at the water. However, it is a very different culture here when it comes to going swimming. In my home country, I usually throw on a casual piece of clothing, put my microfiber towel and a bikini in my handbag, and that's it.

Not so in Italy. The glamorous ladies of Verbania come in their finest couture, adorned with bling bling, and loaded with things that are supposed to make swimming life more beautiful...toys for the kids, lunch cooler bag, drinks, radio, books, air mattresses, ...

So far so good. There I lie with my sparse luggage...and lie and lie and lie...swim in between...and lie and sleep and lie...exciting for a blog, right?!...(also the reason why I probably didn't write another post that day ;)

Tormented by the slowly emerging boredom (culturally conditioned), I was almost looking forward to my return journey the next day. I would have liked to make more stops. But since there was only Switzerland between me and home, I decided to return a bit earlier. My budget was too tight for the Swiss franc.

THE TROUBLE WITH ITALIAN FOOD IS, THAT FIVE OR SIX DAYS LATER, YOU'RE HUNGRY AGAIN

After the exhausting ;) day at the beach, hunger slowly set in. When, if not today, would be the day to treat myself to a real Italian dinner? I wanted to celebrate a proper farewell. With truly authentic cuisine, without all the touristy noses around. So my Google rage ignited...

After browsing through blogs and forums for a long time, I found a nice restaurant not far from where I was staying.

Freshened up and having passed through the car wash, I set off.

7:30 pm...actually quite late for dinner (in Austria). Not so in Italy. The waitress looked at me with surprise and told me that the kitchen would only open shortly before 8. Yes, that's how it works in Italy. I should have known.

Doesn't matter, with a lot of charm I convinced the waitress to let me stay in the wonderful courtyard in the meantime. I told her that I was traveling alone and celebrating my last evening today. With typical Italian warmth, she smiled at me, clapped her hands, and exclaimed, 'Allora...un prosecco??'

'YES !!!'

What happened from that moment on was simply wonderful. The chef himself came to me, by the way, I was still alone in the garden, and explained his menu to me. With gestures and broken English, he explained how much he loves to cook, the passion and creativity he puts into it, and whether I would be open to trying a few things?

With a heart full of desire, I grinned and replied briefly, but fully convinced, 'Yes, yes, yes'...I was beaming. That's exactly how I had imagined it.

aperitivo - primo piatto - secondo piatto - I can't do it anymore. I really wanted to go through with the typical Italian course menu...but in addition to the bottle of wine that I treated myself to, it was just too much. I had to skip dessert.

Thankful and happy, I asked for the bill when the waitress dropped the next bombshell...

'The wine is on the house'...I could hardly believe it. 'They would like to make me happy as a final gesture and hope that I will come back someday'...moved, I paid my bill and made my way home. With a continuous smile on my face, I sat by the beautiful lake one last time and enjoyed the evening atmosphere.

I'm looking forward to being home. But I do so with many beautiful experiences in my heart and in my luggage.

ARRIVED IN PANAMA

After a few hours of driving through Switzerland, I arrived in Bregenz. I can hardly believe how quickly you feel at home again. As if you haven't been away at all.

The laundry and luggage are quickly washed and put away, the car will soon be emptied, the flowers watered, and everything is as it was before.

Gradually, you meet people from your surroundings again and tell them about your great vacation and slowly get back into 'talking a lot'. I realize, through all my stories, that it wasn't really that spectacular. That there were no emotional breakdowns, brain fucks, or anything like that.

I didn't travel alone to find myself, but BECAUSE I had already found myself...and when I pulled out the last piece of luggage (a book that I unconsciously threw into my backpack before my trip without paying attention to the title) to put it away at home, I had to laugh out loud.

'YOU DON'T HAVE TO TRAVEL TO ARRIVE AT YOURSELF' (by Diana Dreeßen)

Bingo!...that's exactly what I didn't do :)