The Fall I fell in love with Europe
Matronly maple trees gathered leaves – in all shades of yellow and brown – at their feet. The cool, sweet scent of autumn permeated the air. Anytime soon, the snow of winter would sweep the whole of central Europe and bathe anew the leaves of Fall.
For first timers like me in Europe, experiencing autumn is like undergoing rebirth. Indeed, my recent European sojourn added heartwarming and memorable colors to my new beginnings.
Paris, the City of Lights, seduced my senses to no end. Walking along the chic Champs Elyseés was a treat to the senses especially when leaves effortlessly fell from the trees even with the slight blowing of the wind. The Eiffel Tower made me privy to its lovely and schizophrenic moods – a cold steel of grey in the morning, an inviting silver icon at high noon, a fiery orange structure at sunset and a celebration of life and lights in the evening. The bateaux mouche cruise of the Seine River proved to be romantic even if I ended up kissing the wind and holding my own hands while gazing at the couples who were wrapped in warm embrace. From time to time, of course, my friends Teena Gaw, Lili-a Hao and I would seal our friendship with a group hug especially when the boat would pass under many an old Parisian bridge. Ahh, such was the beauty of traveling with well-meaning friends.
In Brussels, the Manneken Pis showed to all and sundry how a small boy made of stone could draw a big crowd of tourists. While eating the yummiest Belgian waffle and the chocolatiest Leonidas bar, I stared with glee at this little structure that, uhm, pees 24/7. Talk about great wonders that come in small packages. In Brussels, too, another wonder took place: I discovered a loving family among my Filipino bus mates. Our friendship was sealed when we had our group photo taken with the Atomium – a famous Belgian landmark that depicts a gigantic atomic lattice of iron crystals – as our backdrop.
My heart did a cartwheel – to borrow a line from my editor, Joanne – when I saw a traditional Dutch windmill in Amsterdam. As the blowing wind propelled its blades, the cobwebs in my mind were also blown away. At the gable house of Anne Frank, the teenage girl whose experiences of the Holocaust were recorded in her popular diary, I all the more realized that war ends all dreams. At the famous Red Light District of Amsterdam, my newfound friends and I agreed that any discussion about sex should not be equated with anything dirty. That night, we talked about sex with finesse. Oh, it was so educational if not entertaining. By simply discussing about it, we got the same "high" as the next man on the street who puffed a stick of hashish. Yes, I was told, marijuana is legal in The Netherlands.
By the time we got to Cologne, Germany, my heart bled. I would be transferred to another bus. Parting, indeed, was such a sweet sorrow. The welcoming smile, however, of my new bus mates warmed me as we toured a cuckoo clock house in the middle of the famed Black Forest in Titisee. Breaking bread with them was as filling as the goulash served to us in the middle of the creeping cold. I felt blessed again to have found another loving family in them, an attestation of an answered prayer I murmured inside the Gothic cathedral in Cologne.
With the warmth accorded to me by another batch of newfound friends, the biting cold in Lucerne, Switzerland failed to freeze my heart and soul. The same intensity of ardor was what we brought with us when we trekked Mount Pilatus which was beginning to be enveloped by patches of snow. If it were true that love could set a place ablaze, Lucerne could just be a beautiful memory of the past by now. Love was what I saw among my group – wives buying shoes and boxers for their husbands, husbands buying watches and cologne for their wives, a son embracing his mother on the way to attend a Sunday Mass in a church overlooking a freezing pond inhabited by geese and mallards, a daughter holding hands with her father while crossing the busy and illustrious Gubelin Street, sisters sharing food with their older or younger siblings, cousins carrying each other’s shopping bags and single travelers simply taking care of each other. In a far away place like Switzerland, sincere spirits managed to find a home away from home.
For awhile I thought – when we were on our way to Innsbruck, Austria whose landscape was dotted and dominated by castles nestled on hilltops – I would meet kings and queens, princes and princesses, lords and ladies of a bygone era. I didn’t have to look far and beyond for the "members of the royalty" were inside our bus busily clicking their cameras away while sharing stories and sisterhood, bread and brotherhood, friendship and food with each other. It was in Innsbruck, after visiting a Swarovski shop, that I discovered two gems far more precious than those crystals: Tye Corcuera and Angela Antonio, the sweethearts who adopted me for a night when I couldn’t sleep in my small, constricting room. Since then, our friendship had been in a roll.
I should mention Vadus, the capital of Liechtenstein, a small yet rich country inhabited by only 35,000 people, even if we stayed there for only three hours. I bet it was the cheapest in terms of living standard of all the cities we went to. This city needs more people, according to a native resident I talked to while waiting for my passport to be stamped. Life in Vadus is probably good but I still wouldn’t trade the hustle and bustle of living in the Philippines even if it means sharing a place under the sun with some 85 million Filipinos. Just the thought of the mean, piping hot sinigang of my Nanay made me realize more that I am not meant to live elsewhere but the Philippines.
Venice, however, tempted and almost won my heart to join the Filipino diaspora to this island city. I would not attempt to use any adjective to describe Venice because the city is beyond words. The pigeons at San Marco Square – even if they appeared to have insatiable appetite all the time – were a sight to behold. Inside the San Marco Cathedral, be on the lookout for the lions with wings in the ceiling. Stare at them and you could hear and feel them roaring. The Doge’s Palace, on the other hand, was at once arresting, imposing and empowering. If only for the romantic gondola ride I shared with Tye and Angela and Mon and Nadine Francisco (another handsome couple in the tour), I would be more than willing to be "sold" to Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. I’m not saying Venice is beautiful. It’s more than that.
From Venice, we crossed the fertile Po Valley and journeyed over the Apennine Mountains in preparation for a Roman holiday. The moniker "eternal city" truly befits Rome. This capital city of Italy is replete with culture and civilization, history and heritage, revelry and reverence. I closed my eyes and heard the thumping energy of spectators watching a gladiators fight at the Coliseum. In the city’s many forums, I saw many an emperor inking new rules and regulations for the city. I could have danced all night by myself at the Piazza de Venezia or stayed all day long at the Spanish Steps to meet more friends or thrown all my coins at the Fountain of Trevi if only to assure the materialization of the three wishes we were asked to make, one of which was to come back to Rome. And yes, the Vatican’s St. Peter Square and Basilica – where I got the chance to marvel at Michael Angelo’s "Pieta" and his "Creation" at the Sistine Chapel and say a prayer at the foot of Pope John Paul II’s tomb – brought me to my knees in praise and appreciation of all the bright and beautiful things I received this year. Rome is simply the best for it is a balm to the soul.
My trip to Europe – which was actually a birthday gift to me by my dear friends Armand Padilla and Mel Martinez – taught me that life could be a walk in the park if I wanted it to be. The yellow and amber leaves of Fall carpeting the ground showed me that there is a reason for every season. Like the leaves collected on the pavement by the force of Fall, let me be grateful to the chilly winter that will give way to my renaissance. Spring and summer are not far behind. Soon, it will be autumn again. And Europe is calling me back to witness anew the cycle of life.
(For your new beginnings, please e-mail me at bumbaki@yahoo.com. If you want to see the world, please call Pacer Travel Services at 521-8884 and 525-3688 or write them at Pacer_travel@yahoo.com. Have a blessed Sunday.)
