The Kick-Arse & the Teddy

When Twice is Not enough

Italy’s instep. More Mika concerts and breakfast with a teddy bear. The one where I apply my shopping failures to a bigger life spectrum.

February 2020

We are young (at heart)

We are strong (in spirit)

We’re not looking for where we belong

We’re not cool

We are free

And we’re running with blood on our knees (that’s just our battle scars healing)

Lyrics written and sung by Mika

Two hours of jumping at a concert – how to lose weight in “style”.

Actually – no style involved whatsoever at all. The real trick is ditching the right burdens, making lifestyle changes, and enjoying your life – then the weight takes care of itself. What did that ad say? Lose weight to feel better, or feel better to lose weight.

(And no, Mika didn’t sing that one in concert. But it suits. And I find it inspiring)

In early 2019 my vague plan was to head to Kazakhstan or the Gobi Desert for an English teaching job somewhere different.

In August 2019 I detoured via Europe with the plan of heading over to Asia in January.

Things worked out in Morocco, then fell apart in Morocco, so I filled in some time, then I would head to Asia in January. (Did I happen to mention that my travels never go to plan?)

From Montescaglioso

So how is it that in January 2020 I’m heading down to Montescaglioso in southern Italy? What exactly was it that took me down there, you might ask? Yes, I know – kind of obvious.

Mika.

I had so much fun at Mika’s London and Paris concerts that I wanted more, and was ultimately free to go anywhere I wanted to. There was no particular time when China was any better than any other. English teaching is a year-round intake in the private English schools. So I decided to postpone going to China by a month or two. I still had 2 months of Schengen visa available. I looked up the concert tour dates and booked two more.

If you haven’t understood this about me yet, I’m not always good at making decisions. Even in the supermarket, a new product to try, I can’t decide between flavours. Or scents. Or colours… So my solution – I buy one of each – much to my daughter’s scoldings and amusement.

Looking at tour dates, locations and prices, I found myself facing the same dilemma.

I applied my usual solution. After all, if one is good, isn’t two better? If two were good, why limit oneself to only one more?

So I booked two more Mika concerts. I chose them close in date and location – one in Napoli on the west coast of Italy, and one in Bari on the east, for two days later. The 5th and 7th of February 2020.

And then proceeded to look for a Workaway somewhere within reach of both for the month up to the concerts.

Montescaglioso.

The walled mountaintop monastery village in Basilicata in southern Italy, loaded with views and old secrets.

I only had two nights in Naples, staying at the Hostel of the Sun, a thrumming hive of energy for anyone looking for some socialising. I had far too brief a time in Naples and it’s somewhere I now need to go back to. I visited briefly over 35 years ago in January 1985 on the way to spending the most amazing day in Pompeii (and the single best plate of pasta ever) – especially enthralling after six years studying Latin at school.

I need to revisit Pompeii. Much will have changed in that time. In fact, the whole Amalfi coastline sounds amazing. Ever since I first visited Italy I’ve wanted to head south from Naples by bicycle, follow that beautiful coastline and explore those classic villages clinging to the cliffs.

Amalfi village - not actually one of my own photos.

But even the brief space I had in Naples was inspiring.

I arrived at the station nearest to the hostel, maybe three floors of escalators below ground. And was puzzled at the walls next to the barriers – they looked like building foundations in very old stonework.

Sure enough, they were the base of an ancient Roman fort.

As I’ve mentioned before, in Oz we’re lucky to find a building 150 years old, so something 2000 plus years old always takes my breath away

It amazes me how much we build up the land level in cities over time, and makes me wonder what else lies below the ground. What else have we forgotten about, like Pompeii? Mt Vesuvius erupted in 79 CE destroying the city. Over time its existence was completely forgotten, for 1500-1800 years (depending on your source). I mean, to be honest, I have trouble remembering what I did yesterday.

As it is, setting up this blog has happened exactly because of this very problem (the history changing from archaeological discoveries one, not the where did I just put the keys which were in my hand 2 minutes ago one).

I’ve been talking about setting up a blog for years and not got around to it. But courtesy of some recent archaeological exploration, the whole foundation to the story I am currently editing has fallen apart, creating a galaxy sized plothole.

The information I researched 5-10 years ago about a site that was considered as mythological - has been found, with plenty of papers published on it over the past three years. I wrote my story 5 years ago. So while I licked my wounds and thought about whether to ditch 70% of the work, or to ditch it all and start again, I decided it was a good time to get this blog going at last.

The plus side is, all these forgotten and long buried sites remembered only as myths are the fuel for my stories and my imagination.

But perhaps the greatest charm of this visit to Naples was one I found in the hostel itself, and not Italian at all as it turns out, but Canadian. Having a great chat with another, as one does, over the breakfast table and the most ginormaous jar of nuttella I’d ever seen (I think it was a 4 kg jar!!!), I discovered that my tablemate was also going to the Mika concert. Not only the Naples one, but also the Bari one. We connected up as I laughed my way through the next few days more than I had in a long time, and cemented myself one of those special friendships for life.

I have found with travel that solid friendships are made very fast and firm. I have met many people who have struck a chord on first meeting. The thing is, does the friendship stick once you’re no longer in each other’s company? Or do they just become another passing ship in the night and some good memories? You never know at the time, but sometimes they do stick. Those are the special ones.

My new friend had been to many Mika concerts, always standing room only – which as I’ve pointed out in an earlier blog is the only respectable way to go. He had come over to Europe especially for the tour.

We stood in line from midafternoon outside in the chill wind waiting for the doors to open at 7pm. This was the first time he had given in to buying an actual seat, because of an injury from a work accident.

Bari was even more fun than Naples. After a magical bus ride through the now snow covered hills outside Naples (I said that wind was cold!) we met up for breakfast in Bari at a delightful pink valentine café – breakfast of ice-cream and fairy floss, giant teddy bear included. And spent many more hours chatting and laughing over our coffees.

He was an inspiring 71 years old.

We are young.

Inspiring because at 71 he was still kicking arse!

We are strong.

Still kicking arse. And the quoted Mika song is the one from the movie Kickass. It gets dismissed a lot, and maybe isn’t an A-grade movie, but I liked its message and I for one enjoyed watching it. Being top quality isn’t the only reason for watching a movie.

As I’ve roamed around I have found this a common theme – I’ve bumped into the most amazing and inspiring people. I am rarely the oldest person staying in the hostels. A Japanese lady I met at the Naples hostel was well into her 70s, had been on the road for a couple of years, and with no plans of stopping any time soon. And she, like all the others, simply wasn’t old.

We’re not looking for where we belong.

I’ve met people doing all manner of jobs online – otherwise called digital nomads. There are some who live in hostels by preference, either for work convenience, or working holidayers using a cheap option with no commitments of rental contracts, which can be hard to arrange when you have no local history.

I love that in the hostels age simply doesn’t matter. People treat each other as… people. If you take time to stop and listen you will find the hostels are full of so many interesting people, others who have dared to just do.

We’re not cool.

We are free

And we’re running with blood on our knees

And I think that is the key. It doesn’t matter where or how. And (though I find travel amazing) you don’t necessarily have to travel to do it. But the point is that you do whatever it is that inspires you.

That you dare to do.