Last Christmas, I gave u(p) my flight!

by Antonio Salituro (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown United Kingdom

Last Christmas, instead of giving my heart away like George Michael did, I gave myself an unusual present - travelling 1500 miles without taking any flight. I made this choice after joining the flight shame movement and deciding to fly only once a year. Obviously, I’m willing to invest my shameful journey in 2020 in a free flight to Caribbean! Having a flight-free journey sounded like a challenging but exciting adventure. And it was indeed! Only 24 hours before my scheduled departure on Wednesday 18th December 2019, my Eurostar from London to Paris got cancelled due to some strikes in France! Mon Dieu! A butter-no-fly effect had just been initiated. Few hours later I was on a ferry to Calais. Stayed over in what it appeared to be a student accommodation after hosting an extremely boozy party. I didn’t sleep a wink and in the morning I was in a zombie mode. Managed to get the wrong train (doh!) and found myself in a ghost station in the middle of nowhere in the North of France. Approached the station personnel to call a taxi. Neither their English nor my French were great, to use a euphemism, and it seemed to be on the set of “Lost in translation”. After what it felt like the longest 15 minutes of my life, I eventually booked a cab! It took an hour for a van with “ambulance” written on it to show up. I could not believe my eyes and started to question my mental health. The driver was not speaking any English but no words were required to understand one another. It is funny and astonishing how human beings can communicate so effectively just by looking at each other in an emergency situation. While going through the Northern France countryside roads my mind was travelling all over the place. At the end of a 40 euro ride, with no cash in my pockets and no ATM around, the taxi driver magically turned into Santa Claus, gave me his business card and let me off. On the verge of beating Usain Bolt 100 metres world record, I jumped on a train towards Paris. A Brazilian guy, Anderson, sat next to me and we started chatting up. Our discussion randomly went from travel plans to Bolsonaro’s madness, squeezing Latin dance and Italian food in between. We were both running against time to catch another train in Paris. He did, I did not. C'est la vie! I have always found fascinating and melancholic that people can intertwine so much for an extremely short act of their existences and then run parallel to one another for the rest of their lives. But in the end, I guess that's the beauty of travelling as well. To boost my morale, I decided to treat myself to a fancy hotel and a visit to Montmartre. As I reached the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur I was immediately overwhelmed by its marvellous splendour. Had a sublime dinner prepared by a Chilean chef in a stylish Latin American bistro. The place was empty because of the strikes, as the French owner, (Raging) Roland, explained me. Although his business was not going great guns, He was super friendly and inspiring with his entrepreneurial ideas. After a good night’s sleep to recharge the batteries, I got on a train once again, this time en route to Milan. With a lower adrenaline level in my veins, I fully enjoyed the snowy Alpes fairy tale scenery when crossing the border. I was back in motherland but still far away from home. And my home town, Crotone, is one of the most remote places to reach by car if you start from the top of the “boot”. 16 hours ride with old friends, traffic jams, improvised toilets and laughs galore. A perfect finale for this insane experience! This slow travel gave me the chance to establish a connection with the space surrounding me and the people I encountered along my way, as well as appreciating a different time perspective. It was definitely the most troublesome trip of my life, yet the most rewarding one. Giving up flights taught me that, like life, holiday is the journey, not the destination.