Solivagant

By Griselda Puspa

Solivagant is a collection of travel novelettes set in Italy, indonesia, and Japan. The story follows a young entrepreneur Kirana Ayu Lestari who met Nicholas Tiberias in her journey. This coming-of-age story is filled with beautiful landscapes, delicious cuisine, and cultural arts; drawing us to unforgettable adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Griselda Puspa
• Release date: Sep 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223017950

Book preview

Griselda Puspa

Solivagant

Three Travel Novelettes

Copyright © 2018 by Griselda Puspa

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

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Contents

Solivagant

1. ITALY

2. INDONESIA

3. JAPAN

About the Author

Also by Griselda Puspa

Solivagant

COLLINS DICTIONARY

(səʊˈlɪvəɡənt)

noun: a lone wanderer

adjective: characterized by lone wandering

1

ITALY

As the old saying goes, we’re living under the same sky. I’m sitting next to the window and gaze upon the vast scenery of white clouds. The sun hides farther above leaving only brightness in the sky. I’m floating in the sky. It’s a fleeting feeling of freedom and wonder as I put my worries back home.

I take another sip of my morning coffee. Turning to my left, I can see a variety of passengers on the plane. A middle-aged man reads a fascinating philosophical book about God’s existence. A young college girl distracts her boredom with another episode of Modern Family. A man stretches his arms at the corner near to the exit window. The Westerners are so different than me. It’s hard to tell where their nationalities but they all share the same trait. They have fair complexion and familiarity with the long trip. They are returning to work and study while I intend to travel as a tourist.

The lady next to me smiles. She helped me hoist my carry-on baggage earlier. She’s in her late 30s with a bob haircut and a long knitted scarf. Hope you’ll get a great holiday. She mentioned some references to her favorite places in Milan: Galleria Vittorio near Piazza del Duomo - Milan’s famous cathedral. She eagerly mentioned multiple brand names such as Dior and Swarovski. Visitors from around the world would pass the alleys and would exit each shop with more paper bags than any locals would.

The traffic is unbearable in summer because tourists swarm around the area. Old couples and their friends visit a local café for affordable refreshments, a young mother feeds her toddler underneath the tree shades, and a group of tourists noisily chatter outside a cathedral. It’s a jolly holiday time.

Although I have little interest in shopping, Vittorio is the oldest shopping mall in the world. It’s too bad I’m missing it. My plan is to stay at Rome for a few days before heading to Florence and Venice. Some books call it the flower city others call it the arts and architecture city. I sign for a group tour to get the most out of the experience. Then, I’d take a returning flight from Rome. It takes me months to prepare for my departure. I plan to find creative inspirations during the trip. Seven days should be more than enough.

The plane reaches Leonardo da Vinci-Fumici International Airport after twelve hours of flight. My dark blue suitcase appears at the rotating luggage wheel. I put the handbag on top of it as I pull out my cellphone. A cool breeze rushes in as I pass the automatic slide doors. I lift my head and there are no clouds that hide sunshine. It’s a completely foreign new sky.

The local pizza margherita here tastes different than back home. Oven baked yeasted flatbread covered with modest tomato sauce and cheese. I don’t think it can count as lunch. I add another tint of red scattered in my sketchbook. My friend Sylvia always mentions how watercolor would look better on conceptual sketches. I still use an ordinary pen and copic markers - the vibrant colors. In this context, Sylvia might be a better fine artisan. Her stunning brushes bring realistic colors to her sketches.

Sylvia and I go back a long time ago. She takes up studies about interaction and product design while I’m more of a visual design enthusiast. I especially favor colorful designs - the combinations, the psychological effects, and the symbolic states. The ideas sometimes come up from animal skin patterns or landscape sceneries. Bright aqua merges to navy blue and is accented with marble white stripes. Later I offer the idea, an aquatic nautical theme to Sylvia and Tasya for a new collection. The discussion goes long from design, product detail, current trend, and potential buyers…

I miss them already.

I snap another shot of the pedestrian view. The doves fly in unison at the courtyard. Their grayish feathers contrast glimmering Galleria Borghese’s pillars. It’s a villa turned into a museum dedicated to Renaissance art. It’s such a mesmerizing view that I had to spend more than an hour inside.

The basement holds a collection of grand marble Greek mythology statues. Bernini’s stunning creation stands at the center: a depiction of Hades and Persephone. Silent paintings watch from the red maroon walls. The skylight touches the marble skins and fabric. I approach the statue while breathing the wonders within. Perseponia as Italian calls it, is the daughter of a Greek goddess who was captured by the afterlife god Hades risen from the cold underground. A powerful god, Hades is a brother to Zeus and Poseidon who rules the afterlife. Persephone’s mother, the goddess of agriculture mourns over the marriage and earth’s season alters to a dry and cold winter. Zeus intervenes and demands Poseidon to return Persephone to her mother every three months a year. The myth ends with four seasons of spring and summer, followed by the autumn and winter.

Bernini must have spent enormous time sculpting the tales back to life. Renaissance is said to be the revival of European art and mythology. Then Baroque comes with lavish details and emotional dramatization. I wonder if Bernini believed in the stories of his art or merely entertaining his commissioners. Persephone for me is quite the opposite of a beautiful love story. Somehow Bernini was able to depict the abduction elegantly with delicate details in strong expressions, muscle movements, twigs and leaves, and the cape fabric. The artwork breathes life and engages viewers to the dramatic Baroque world.

A buzz goes on my mobile phone. Thank god you arrive safely. I swiftly pick a smile emoticon and push the send button. My parents love the pictures I earlier sent to the group. They are mostly selfies.

Scuzzi. Photo, per favore? I turn to a nearby waiter with his stripe monochrome apron. He notices my gestures and put his tray down. Er, one, two, three… he takes two snapshots with my camera before handing it over. It’s great. Grazie. Another one, please? I smile and point at my cell phone. He takes some more patiently. Grazie. Molto bene. He flashes his smile and walks back to the counter.

I noticed for the past two days how different Italians are. They have strong facial features with darker shades of skin tone as tanned and exotic Europeans. They put their sunglasses down and order drinks at the cafes. Wide shouldered men walk with fashionable belts. Women wear summer dresses and walk on the cobblestones. Leather products and a variety of colorful jewelry parade around the city. Fashion seems to extend arts and culture of the historical country itself. I take pleasure in admiring them.

Yesterday I explored the Colosseum where I got the chance to meet a young Italian girl named Lucia. She is in her mid-20s and aspires to be an international chef. …much like you as an Italian enthusiastic traveler. I’d like to give you the Italian homemade dish but with a twist… er, more magnificent… in the luxurious five-star rated style. As she passionately describes her epic vision she pulls some of her creations from her smartphone. You see? It’s more authentic, more local… fresh… There you see… mia madre, nonni… e fratelli. La famiglia… family. Si? Yes, I squint as she zooms in the faces in her pictures, what lovely pictures.

Understand that Italians have a lot of family celebrations. They will have bread and meat ravioli with olive oil on the table. Wearing their best summer dresses and dark suit, they clink their glasses to toast for the family. At least, that’s how the cooking shows to record it.

Lucia was kind enough to accompany me circling the Colosseum. There was a traveling group that arrived at the same time with me. They rush for pictures, standing in front of my lens again and again. A thick-coated male holds the tour flag The tour guide repeatedly call their tour members to begin his monologue about history and culture. I had to move farther away to get the best visuals. They were still within my earshot.

Colosseum is the famous gladiator arena that can hold fifty thousand audience seats. It originally has the late King Nero statue, if any of you are familiar with him - yes, Nero and the burning Rome. We are used to having the statue in front of the Colosseum or Collose di Nerone, we say…

Lucia who noticed me taking pictures alone asked if I’d like a picture. She noticed the guidebook and cellphone in the midst of hanging a camera on my neck. It’s easy to comprehend I was a solo traveler. Lucia went further to explain how the Colosseum brought old memories back. Historical places hold the essence of human life - intertwining the past with the present community. Time-lapse might be a good illustration of how an environment developed over time. The designated building stood over the decades of civilization. I scrutinized the arches from the lowest level to the highest level… sunlight cast shadow on the masonry, accentuating the depth and height of the arches… the three wall layers echoed the emotional cheers from the exhilarated gladiator audiences. Black horses were assembled on the carriages and perhaps, even bears, tigers, and exotic animals hid underneath the Colosseum’s ground. I imagined a Roman infantry lined with their iron spears and metallic bodysuit, wrapped in the notorious scarlet tunic.

I hope I can go back here someday… I shared my dream to Lucia.

There are times when I recount a familiar music tone that flashes from my memory. They emerge whenever I am wandering off between thoughts and imagination. Piles of dry leaves scatter on the pathway and the high autumn sun gleams over my head. I stroll the garden pathway under the tree shades. There is this particular note I keep humming for days. It’s on a major scale; a joyful catchy rhythm that you can easily sing-a-long with.

It only takes a few minutes before I catch the splashing water sound from a fountain along with the excited children squeals. In front of me, the great Trevi Fountain becomes the center of attention. Three, four… tens of tourists take multiple selfies and group photos. Fendi once transforms the fountain as a fashion show platform mystically creates