Perhaps because I was born on an island, being surrounded by the sea make me feel protected, at peace; the world which we associate with worries, duties, lack of freedom, is so far away that the sunlight on the horizon has already dispersed its traces.
Despite attracting many tourists every summer, Panarea, one of the seven islands in the Aeolian Archipelago, offered me the relaxation I had so much yearned for in the past year. I spent there a few days in July, and I honestly dreamed of moving to one of its white houses immersed in the Mediterranean scrub. The dazzling light reflected by their walls seemed to clean the mind from any thought, while the sea, visible at the end of every narrow path, invited me for a daily bathe. Swimming felt like coming to life; it was regenerating, as much as admiring the sunrise from the top of some cliff, writing poems, and taking photos for myself only, for my own pleasure.
The joy of collecting memories like rare shells: that is my personal heaven, something I look for when I travel. And Panarea gave me that; it even returned some lost hope to my heart.
Colorblind 