Feeling at home in Broome

Running in the morning light on the desert and sunny Cable beach, with the wind scratching the skin and deep blue and play of light in the eyes. Running faster and faster, until to not feel anymore the feet splashing on the shore, like the horse of the IP advertisement. Let the thoughts go at full tilt, as if I have the long hair of some years ago. No price.



Feeling at home. What means ? For who is abroad is, sometimes, speaking own language, listening an old song, eating good food of own country. For me is having a place where you know that someone waits for you to give you a hug, or a kiss, a smile. A place where feeling loved. What means feeling loved ? For me it means feeling free to express myself in all what I am and knowing to be really listened. The physical place where this happened is at Valter and Franca’s home, who I greet with love.



I leaved for this travel also with the target of learning to feel at home everywhere and however. I don’t think is a so ambitious target, however I don’t still arrived it.

I’m still too much worried about what I’ll eat, where I’ll sleep, the imagine that I’ll give. I should be as a child, innocent, spontaneous, sure that someone will give me all I need. Or, better, that all that will arrive to me will be all that I need.

I became so worried to express my needs that i forget to receive all the other gifts that can arrive me in a day, but those don’t belong to the category of what I plan good for me. And I forget to be home for the others, and myself.
The truth is that I believe that everyone has to give himself the permit to feel at home, to feel free of being what he is. There will be always someone who doesn’t like you, and there will be someone else able to appreciate your spontaneity and your freedom.



There are places, as Summerhill, where there are the best conditions to learn to express yourself, to become what one is or could be. There are physical houses that look like prisons ma the true prison is the mind.

Do you know the story of the elephant ? The elephants are tied with a rope all their life. From cubs they are too weak to break it and they learn to think always like this, also when they, bigger, could break the rope easily. But you have to change way to think, and you have to discuss your safeties.



The first time that i thought to go away from home I was 11 or 12 years old. I planned to fill my bag with cracker and water and going to look for a job to the bar of the train station. Who knows why. Then I thought that it was more comfortable waiting to have more resources, more skills. I continued to think it for all the following years, with few flash of consciousness. At the end of the travel of the Corse by bike I should have wanted to change boat and going to look for a job in Marseille. At the end of the high school I should have wanted to go to Canada, working in some natural park. At the end of my travel in Costarica, I should have wanted to go ahead in Nicaragua.

In every place I’ve been I didn’t wanted to spend too much time to manage it, because I knew that those places were temporary. It’s like if I had prepared me all my life to this travel, but I had to wait until the 36 years to understand that it’s possible, and it isn’t so difficult, especially before the 30 years. The fact is that choosing always the easier solution makes you stupid, doesn’t make you bigger and, at the end, doesn’t give you fun. As Antonio says, putting himself in difficulty is the good way to learn and to have fun as well.

I don’t know for the others. I had to leave. I don’t know where I’ll go or what it will happen to me. I’ll try to do something of really good and I don’t care if I will not can. Every day that I’ll follow this street will make me a better person, and more happy. I don’t need anything more.