Back ‘home’

By Greta Muscat Azzopardi
October 9, 2016
Curiosity Breadcrumbs,Life,Travel,Writing

I’ve been ‘back’ for over two months now. It feels like both an eternity and no time at all somehow. I can’t say that it has always been plain sailing, yet it feels good to be here and I would not really want to be anywhere else right now. The month I spent at the artistic residence in Italy was the perfect half-way house between Brazil and Malta. Between travelling and ‘being home’. I wrote that in inverted commas because this feels as much my home as it doesn’t. My home due to the familiarity of the faces here, due to the length of time my ties here run deep. Yet the more I move around, the more I see that I carry my sense of home with me, that I create it inside me. Just as I can carry my sense of travelling with me back home.

Wandering through the city

By Greta Muscat Azzopardi
October 9, 2016
Art,Curiosity Breadcrumbs,Design,i,Travel,Writing

Looking at ways of grounding the traveller’s mindset in our home towns and cities, I chatted with Shawn Micallef, urban columnist for the Toronto Star, editor and co-owner of Spacing magazine and teacher of urban civic citizenship at the University of Toronto, about the flâneur philosophy, psychogeography and the things you can only discover through walking.

Many people have talked about how travel makes it easier for us to see the world anew. How, stripped from routine and familiarity, we can interact with our surroundings in a completely different manner. What I’m exploring is just how much of this is possible for us to have in our everyday lives, in our hometowns, our work, our ‘familiar surroundings’.

I saw you described as a flâneur, what does that mean to you and how does this influence your day-to-day life?

Flâneur is a word that has been applied to me, (one that I find perhaps a little bit embarrassing), a guiding principle. It’s about being a good observer, about peripatetic observation, blending in, hopefully becoming invisible. This is where the idea of a flâneur becomes an unequal one, not everyone can blend in. As a white male that is so much easier. Lauren Elkin has released a book called Flâneuse this summer, looking at the flâneur from a woman’s perspective. Historically the flâneur’s gaze has been male so I’m really happy that this has been stretched out and looked at as to why it is unequal. I hope that everyone can take what they want out of that and wander, look and just keep looking.

How to have a traveller’s mindset

Ways of experiencing the magic of travelling wherever you are

1. Get lost

“ to be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery.”
– Rebecca Solnit

Part of the joy of travelling is the unfamiliarity of our surroundings. We need maps, apps, stops to ask for direction to find the way. At home we often go from A to B using the same route. We’re distracted with thoughts, with being late, with what’s coming next and we rarely really look around us. Try taking a different route on day, try going to a wholly unfamiliar part of your hometown, country. Try to purposely get your self lost, just for the sake of it, then enjoy the wandering that results. And actually talk to people to get yourself un-lost. You’d be surprised what comes out of that.

A sense of home 2: Jonathan Magnin

Surviving (and thriving within) nomadism from those living without a fixed home.

In part 2 of this series I speak to French digital nomad Jonathan Magnin. Jon helps people and business to gain clarity and grow. He’s into creativity, start-ups and growth hacking with a social twist.

Which area of the world are you living in right now? How long have you been nomadic?

It’s been a month that I live in Medellin, Colombia. Before Medellin, I spent 6 months in Brazil, 6 months in France, 5 months in Dublin and about 10 months in Pereira, Colombia.

I’ve been a digital nomad for about 3 years.

A Brazilian Dreamer in Celle

How an anarchist with a dream birthed a space for creativity

She appeared suddenly one evening in April. Celle di San Vito, the smallest village in the whole of Puglia was covered in snow, with the notorious Cellesi wind that gets right to the cores of your bones, blowing willfully. Like it’s trying to blow out the fire.

Don Michele, owner of the Castello housing the project, an Italian priest in his 80s with a passion for the local Franco Provenziale language and an uncanny ability to churn out back-to-back historical facts about seemingly everything, received a call at 9:30pm.

“Io arrivo”, she said in her trademark mix of Spanish, Italian and Portuguese. “Dove?”, asked Don Michele? “Celle”. “Dormo alla tienda”, continuing to explain that she had found a corner next to the Castello’s main door to pitch her tent in, right at the end of Celle’s one “primary” road. There was no need for him to come over from the next village with the key. She could wait until the next morning, she reassured him. Snow, freezing winds and camping right in the middle of a tiny village in Southern Italy do not even faze Carolina Bernardes.

A sense of home : Gigi Griffis

Surviving (and thriving within) nomadism, from those living without a fixed home

In part 1 of this series of interviews I speak to world-traveling entrepreneur and writer Gigi Griffis. In May 2012, Gigi sold her stuff, left Denver Colorado and took to the road with a growing business and a pint-sized pooch. She’s the author of seven guidebooks and a sassy little travel blog at gigigriffis.com.

Which area of the world are you living in right now? How long have you been nomadic?

I’m currently road tripping across Canada from Quebec City in the east to Vancouver in the west. I’m writing to you from a cute little hotel suite just outside downtown Toronto, where I’m working today. Tomorrow, I’m off to a small town called Marathon on Lake Ontario.

I’ve been nomadic for just over four years now. I boarded a plane for Scotland (my first stop) with my hiking backpack and my small dog on May 30^th, 2012.

Writing, melancholy and my own hero’s journey

From Brazil I’ve landed in tiny Celle Di San Vito, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it village in Puglia, South Italy. I’m here participating in an artistic residence working on two writing projects and dealing with my Brazil withdrawal symptoms.

I had all kinds of plans to work on my project this morning. To start reading, perhaps writing questions, creating a backbone for what I am so far calling ‘By Doing’. I’m collecting stories through interviews, videos, writings, about people who have really managed to integrate whatever they feel compelled to do (compelled is another possible title) into their life. And specifically the role of struggle in that journey. I want to create an online space where people can recognise themselves and hopefully understand themselves better through it. Where struggle can be looked at, appreciated for the information and development it brings.

This morning though, as I sit and type in the little sunny terrace of the Castello at Celle di San Vito, I feel that I first need to understand myself. I’ve been struggling with melancholy over the past three days I’ve been here and I have not quite been able to put my finger on exactly what this is due to.

Losing (and finding) my identity

How I coped with exiting the job I hid behind

Hi, I’m Greta. I’m a marketing manager. That was my opening line on meeting someone. And then I would go on to explain that I worked for the corporate office of an international hotel brand, working on branding and brand consistency management.

I wore suits to work, I spent the vast majority of my time at work, I was addicted to answering work emails and solving work problems. I had just started traveling for work, going to luxury hotels, getting picked up by drivers, having doors opened for me, being treated with an air of respect for my ‘authority’. And I liked it.

I liked going to my room and finding a welcoming note and chocolates from the hotel manager, I liked hotel breakfasts, especially in London where the whiff of opulence and celebrity was even stronger than that emanating from the organic, locally sourced fruit and granola I was nibbling at. It all made me feel special, important, wanted. Like I was finally someone.

Then I started to get the feeling that I wasn’t growing in my work, that as great as the glamour side of things was, I was not feeling like I was expanding exponentially any longer. I started feeling like I wanted more.

A day in the life: Piracanga

Inspired by Gigi Griffths’ (awesome travel blogger and person) day in the life posts I thought I’d pick out a Piracanga day and follow myself around with a camera and a notebook. Unfortunately I got a little excited about my day and the camera part evaporated in the evening.

So I’m currently staying at Piracanga, an eco village close to Itacare, Bahia, Brazil. I aim to write more about this place and how it works sometime soon but for the moment just picture a beautiful river and beach side village that works completely in tune with nature.

I would not say this is a typical day cause routine is not really the order of the day here and every day brings new discoveries, meetings and events. But here’s what happened two days ago:

Street carnival in São Paulo: Life in pictures

By Greta Muscat Azzopardi
February 28, 2016
Travel

Here’s what the street carnival in São Paulo looks like. Beautiful faces, creative costumes and so many colours from Bloco Ritaleena.

Blog : Travel

Ways of experiencing the magic of travelling wherever you are

1. Get lost

Surviving (and thriving within) nomadism from those living without a fixed home.

In part 2 of this series I speak to French digital nomad Jonathan Magnin. Jon helps people and business to gain clarity and grow. He’s into creativity, start-ups and growth hacking with a social twist.

How an anarchist with a dream birthed a space for creativity

Surviving (and thriving within) nomadism, from those living without a fixed home