Tanti auguri a…me! It’s really true, this week my blog is celebrating its first birthday. It was 11 November last year (11/11, and 22 is my favourite number. Is that a coincidence or what?) when I hit the publishing button with trembling hands sending my story into the wide world. My heart was hammering in my chest, because, dear God, now all of a sudden everyone could read what I was planning to do. Or rather, what I had already done.
From then on I would take you with me on what was going to be the greatest adventure of my life
I had quit my stable, well-paid job with a large bank and left for Rome without a plan really. I had called this my very own Operation La Dolce Vita, and from then on I would take you with me on what was going to be the greatest adventure of my life. Since many of my friends do not speak Dutch, it seemed logical to me to publish the blog in English too. But when you write about your life in Italy, shouldn’t it also be in Italian? And that’s how I suddenly had a blog in three different languages. But was it even realistic? Would I be able to keep up with it? And would my Italian be good enough?
I vividly remember how the editor in chief looked at me and asked me how I was so sure I would have enough inspiration for a new column of around five hundred words every single week (that was very often, according to her). It could happen that I wouldn’t get to live anything special in a certain week, right?
A week and a half before I boarded the plane, I found myself in the newsroom of a major Dutch newspaper. They were interested in my story and now we were discussing the possibility of me writing for them as a regular columnist. However, I hadn’t even started yet, had never written before and hence, I couldn’t show them any of my work. I vividly remember how the editor in chief looked at me and asked me how I was so sure I would have enough inspiration for a new column of around five hundred words every single week (that was very often, according to her). It could happen that I wouldn’t get to live anything special in a certain week, right? What would I write about then?
If there is one thing that characterises my life, it is how I always meet the most interesting people everywhere I go, leaving me with the most beautiful stories
So there I sat on that leather couch in that big glass newsroom with my legs crossed in my neat pencil skirt. I realised she had a point. Because indeed, how could I be so sure? But for some reason, I did not doubt that for a moment. Because if there is one thing that characterises my life, it is how I always meet the most interesting people everywhere I go, leaving me with the most beautiful stories. Those very first blogs were actually written with in the back of my head the thought that they were going to be published as a column in a newspaper with over a hundred thousand subscribers. In the end, me becoming a regular columnist for that newspaper didn’t happen. Changes to the editorial staff and a new editor in chief meant that the decision was postponed every time. In the meantime, however, I had already arrived in Rome and I decided not to wait for them. I knew I wanted to share my story anyway – and in several languages I had decided by now – and with a lot of blood, sweat, tears and Youtube tutorials I created my own website.
Not even once I’ve looked up advices on how to structure an article or write in a compelling way. The sentences flowing onto the paper is purely a matter of outpouring my feelings
Soon I found out how nice it actually was to write independently. This way I could determine everything myself. I didn’t have to discuss the subjects to see whether or not they would appeal to their readership. I could be as personal as I wanted to be and make the stories as long as I desired. I could simply go on until I had nothing more to say. And as you know by now, keeping things short and to the point is not one of my strongest points. In fact, I am exactly the same on paper as I am in real life. Very soon, I learned to let go of perfection. Since I usually don’t write the blogs until Monday, the ‘reading it over tomorrow’ thing isn’t even possible. Not even once I’ve looked up advices on how to structure an article or write in a compelling way. The sentences flowing onto the paper is purely a matter of outpouring my feelings. And that’s how my weekly blog slowly but surely became a kind of public diary in which everyone was welcome to read along. By now I am only grateful for how it all went. Because more and more I realise that I have actually been capturing the most bizarre year of the century.
All of a sudden, I found myself back in the Netherlands, and it soon dawned on me that I was going to stay there for the time being. But what about my blog? After all, it was about my life in Italy. Could I still carry on with it while I was in the Netherlands?
Barely four months had passed since I embarked on my journey when the world was literally on fire. The whole of Italy, my new homeland, was locked up in a way we could never have imagined, and not long after that, the evil virus completely overtook the rest of Europe as well. All our once so entrenched certainties were suddenly gone, carried away like dust in the wind. All of a sudden, I found myself back in the Netherlands, and it soon dawned on me that I was going to stay there for the time being. But what about my blog? After all, it was about my life in Italy. Could I still carry on with it while I was in the Netherlands? However, that very first week there was more than enough stuff to write about. Many messages from Italy reached me, from people singing on balconies to children painting rainbow banners. The blog that followed ‘What quarantine dreams are made off’ was one of the blogs on which I got the most comments ever. This made me realise: I may not be in Italy for a while, but I am still full of stories for plenty more blogs.
I guess you get what I try to say here: there was a very good chance that I would have dropped out of my blog somewhere in the middle of February
Looking back on it now, it fills me with pride. I’m proud of myself for keeping my own resolution. Not long after I started, I said to myself that I wanted to keep this up for at least one year. Publishing a blog every single Monday, so that in November 2020 – which is now – I would have captured my whole first year in Rome. It was quite a challenge that I took on with myself. Although I had always enjoyed writing, I was not the kind of child who kept a diary. When we went on family holidays, my sister always made a beautiful scrapbook full of written memories of what we had done every day. That’s what I wanted to do too. I was as enthusiastic as she was about it, but as I browse through these old scrapbooks now, I have to face the fact that after a few days I always just quit – often in the middle of a sentence – most likely just distracted by everything that happened around me. I guess you get what I try to say here: there was a very good chance that I would have dropped out of my blog somewhere in the middle of February. And, of course, I didn’t always feel like it. But I decided to persevere, because I knew: if I skip once, the next time it will be much easier to think ‘now is not a good time’. Whether it was Christmas, Easter, high summer or Blue Monday, my blog always came out. There were weeks, especially in summer, in which I was so busy simply living and creating new memories that it wasn’t always easy to direct myself inside to sit behind my laptop. But after the summer it became something that gave me structure again and that I was looking forward to. Because no matter what season it was, my blog always gave me a sense of satisfaction and dedication.
Fifty-three little stories that together form a detailed overview of all my happy moments, doubts, excitement and adventures. What a lot has happened!
And now it is November ninth, and I am publishing blog numero 53. Fifty-three little stories that together form a detailed overview of all my happy moments, doubts, excitement and adventures. What a lot has happened! I told you about Spelacchio, the American Christmas tree in Rome and all kinds of Italian traditions around Easter. I took you to the island of Ischia this summer, on a walk through ancient Rome and to a Scottish village in the mountains of Tuscany. I described the awful street robbery and how seven special Italian men completely restored my confidence. I wrote blogs on a small square in Naples and on the bus to Molise. In my parents’ garden and at the airports of Fiumicino, Eindhoven, Düsseldorf, Ciampino and Milan. In small bars and cafes, and high in the sky above the snowy Alps. While sitting at the kitchen table and lying down in bed. I have done it, I have published a blog every single Monday this past year. But now I had completed my challenge, I was inevitably faced with the question, what’s next? Will this be the end? Or am I going to go on?
For now, I would very much like to take this opportunity here to thank you. Every single message or comment I’ve received of you, short or long, has done me so tremendously well
It wouldn’t surprise you when I tell you I am still full of stories and new plans. So no, this is not the end. I am going to change, or rather improve, some things in the time to come. But you’ll see that for yourself. For now, I would very much like to take this opportunity here to thank you. Every single message or comment I’ve received of you, short or long, has done me so tremendously well. I find it so incredibly thoughtful you reach out to me and feel enormously honoured that you take the time and effort to read my blogs. Some of you read a blog once in a while, others every Monday night, and I love both of that. Thank you very much. Or I should say, grazie di cuore. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Vi voglio bene!