Blogs and Other Things

Tuesday, March 18, 2025 –

Morning!

If it’s morning for you.

Every minute for me feels like morning right now; I think the impact of travelling every weekend is finally taking its (rightful) toll.

But as I like to say: we buzz.

For those unfamiliar with the phrase, it’s Canadian for “hakuna matata”.

Hope that helps.

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On a different note, if you’re curious about the title: blue is my favourite colour.

It used to be purple, but then I went to Europe.

From the skies to the seas, my most influential experiences have often stemmed from the blueness of my surroundings; yet, it can also be a synonym for melancholy.

Feeling blue.

But I don’t think this has to be negative; feeling blue can simply be a way to tap into your emotions.

After all, it’s better to feel blue than to feel nothing.

Is he okay

Great question.

Yes.

However.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit more blue as I anticipate coming home. There’s a sadness in leaving, but there’s also a sadness in everything you feel like you’re missing.

So, I needed a distraction.

…

Enter Italy.

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Tuesday

Before I became Italian for two days, though, I went to see Barcelona vs Benfica, where I witnessed two of the greatest goals I’ll probably ever see live.

Barça won 3-1, but the story was Lamine Yamal, who is quickly making his case to be the world’s greater footballer of the next generation.

(He’s also 17)

If you want the highlights, I’ll leave them here; you only need to watch the first half.

(You’ll see that’s all he needed)

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Friday

Fast forward to Friday: when I left Barcelona, it was pouring rain, and the pigeons were nowhere to be found.

(It was a sad day)

(…until I got off the plane)

Frankly, I could smell it as soon as I stepped outside the airport: this trip was going to be different. Apart from the gentle breeze, there was a stillness in the air that smelled like something I’d known before.

(And then I had to go to the bathroom)

Funnily enough, there’d actually been a washroom right when I got off the plane, but of course, I didn’t have enough of the urge and convinced myself I’d find another one.

And to my credit, I did.

…an hour later.

:0

Let’s just say it built character.

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My saviour was a kind lady who spoke a dash of English and led me to (what I thought was) a broom closet at the back of her mattress store, but the closet had a toilet (so probably not).

I would shout her out if I had any clue what her store was called; regardless, if you ever get the urge in Reggio Calabria, I’m sure she’ll find you.

Anywho: Reggio Calabria.

It’s a small city on the coast of southwestern Italy, right across from Sicily (so I went there too, but we’ll get to that).

First things first, I asked Google Maps to take me to the beach as I once again had no itinerary.

Along the way, I took these.

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My route also took me through a tunnel, and luckily for me, it was golden hour.

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It was more like a golden 5 minutes, but that was all I needed.

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Once I’d contemplated my existence, I walked back down the beach until I found this.

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So I climbed through it (penetrated, if you will).

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And on the other side of the hole was a nice contrast.

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From there, I resumed my journey to the city centre.

While I’ve mentioned I had no itinerary, that was a partial lie (sorry); I had a ferry ticket booked for 9:55 to Messina, a city just across the Strait of Messina on Sicily’s northeastern coast.

But until then, I had time for some Italian delicacies.

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(Favourite piece of Italy: unlocked)

That said, my stroll along the shore was a close second; this was a blue I could get behind.

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And as I made my way along, I kept thinking to myself: this is the Europe I remember. The slow walks by the water; the warmth; the quiet bustling of underpopulated cities…it was all coming back.

For those who don’t know: when I was 6, I was given the opportunity to live in France for a year with my family as my dad was on a sabbatical. We lived in Biot, a village about 40 minutes from Nice on the southern coast; while I don’t remember a ton, I can sometimes remember how it felt.

And Friday was an overwhelming reminder.

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Saturday

Sleeping in Sicily was much nicer than the night I was about to have (but we’ll get to that).

For starters, I woke up with one goal in mind: mountains.

Before I left, I’d actually done some proactive work (no big deal) to plan out my hike. Google Maps led me to Colli San Rizzo, which I figured would have great views and teach me how to talk to women, all in one.

(If you’re confused, ask your grandkids)

Unfortunately, it ended up just being a hike.

But I moved on.

The bus ride was about 40 minutes through the mountains, and I was the only person on board, so it felt like my own private tour of Sicily.

Unfortunately, my phone camera hates me.

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When I got there, the bus dropped me off at an intersection surrounded by mountains with trails that seemed to lead in every direction.

The only problem was they all seemed to go down.

Appalling, really.

In my eyes, there isn’t much point of going down a mountain if you haven’t done the work to reach the top.

So, the only way was up.

With Google Maps (I should really get paid for this promo), I found the peak of Colli San Rizzo itself, and figured if the pictures online told me anything, it was that the trek would be worth it.

Ironically, the “trek” ended up being 15 minutes, and the peak was not what I expected; as it turned out, I was on the wrong mountain altogether.

Whoops.

But as my mom often says, it was a happy accident; otherwise, I wouldn’t have found this.

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Real life art.

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Afterwards, I went back to the original intersection to see where I’d gone wrong, and ended up finding a trail map.

Outside.

In plain sight.

For all to see.

Nice Eric

So I picked one and got going.

Full disclosure, though: I can’t read Italian (despite what my resume says), so the further I went, the more my confidence lowered, and you can see why.

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By the end, the trail was more or less a guessing game; that said, it led me to this, so I have no complaints.

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Photos won’t do it justice, but this is what my iPhone 12 could muster.

(Feel free to click on the ads so I can buy a camera haha)

(Or don’t if you hate me)

Anyway.

At this point, I was wiped; while I sort of glossed over it, the hike was hard. It was steep and hot, and the final stretch was almost entirely rocky hills.

So I took a long break, marked my territory, and headed back.

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When I got back to Messina, I was starving; it was time for another Italian delicacy.

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Sri Lanka’s in Italy, right?

While the angle is deceiving, I’d say it was enough to feed a family of 5 (or my friend while he’s bulking); regardless, here‘s the place.

It hit.

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After my meal, my hiking/food coma was at an all-time high, so I took the ferry back, took a bus to the airport, and reinvented my comfort zone.

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My flight was at 6AM the next morning (which was inhumane but incredibly cheap); thus, I hereby welcome you to Episode 1 (of 2) of Sleeping (In Airports) With Eric!

😉

We’re thrilled to have you with us.

For what it’s worth, Reggio Calabria Airport is the smallest airport I’ve ever been to (and I’ve been to Thunder Bay).

So here’s a brief play-by-play of how it actually went:

8:30PM – Eric finishes (hehe) watching football and sets up bed (thoughts?).

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9PM – A number of people enter the airport (there were 3 to start), which confuses Eric as there aren’t any flights until the next morning.

9:30PM – A plane arrives from the sky (Eric has eureka moment).

10:30PM – Another plane arrives (Eric can’t sleep, tries to walk around, gets tired again).

11PM – Eric picks a new spot against the wall, tries to sleep again.

12AM – Just as he’s actually falling asleep, Eric is abruptly awoken by airport staff as he’s sleeping “too close to the windows” (Eric doesn’t understand how that’s an issue but is too tired to care).

12:05AM – Eric moves to a different spot.

12:05-3:20AM – Eric sleeps intermittently for 3 hours.

3:20AM – Eric gives up.

6AM – Flight leaves.

8AM – Flight lands.

10AM – Eric gets home; security alarm blares as his host family is in England. Eric has to convince alarm people over intercom that he’s not a criminal (despite what he’s wearing).

10:15AM – Eric sleeps.

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Sunday

So all in all, it was an elite experience (avoid it at all costs).

Jokes aside, some of those who joined me seemed to have success, so maybe I’m the problem.

Regardless, I’ll be trying my luck again this Thursday.

So if you made it this far, I’ll see you for Episode 2.

In two days.

F***