Monday, 7 April 2014

11th March, 2014. The City of Three Cojones

While I was on my train from Schio to Bergamo, Lucy was in St Gallen, Switzerland, with her backpack. Young, free and bouncy, she was only just stepping our of her home to begin her first ever solo trip. Meanwhile Marketa, from the city of Olomouc in Czech Republic, was visiting Milan before her flight to celebrate the fallas of Valencia. In a blue dress and red belt, she pulled her suitcase along the cobbled streets of Bergamo. All the while Tekle, a Lithuanian athlete, was boarding a plane in Cyprus after one of her many races. By a draw of my next host's doing, all four of us met in Siegfried's living room.

We joked until the early hours of the morning. In between stories, Marketa would pour us Czech spirits from tiny bottles and Lucy and I bonded over a harmonica duet. In the morning we still found the energy to wander through Bergamo. Tekle even jogged! Siegfried pointed out curiosities including the city sigil carved and casted onto all church and cathedral walls. "Guess what it is," he challenged us. "It looks like three drops..." "It's three cojones (balls)!" We burst into laughter. Only the Italians would proudly march with genitals on their banners.

Our goodbye was a hassle of jotting down phone numbers and Facebook addresses followed by group hugs and glowing smiles. Weather experienced travellers or fresh ones, our paths will cross again, spontaneously, like they did in Bergamo.

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