It's been quite a long time ago since I didn't came over here to drop some lines about everything, joys, fears, expectations etc. I feel like this is the good time to do it.
When I was young I was given by my father several books that some would call "comics". Oh, of course, there were lots of it. I figured out it was something really important for him to pass on this kind of legacy to me as these books & comics were an important part of his childhood. Then I read during nights and week-ends the fabulous stories of Bicot or Little Nemo in the fantastic & dreamy world of Slumberland. It was absolutely great. But amongst these comics that I was given, one name glinted over the others: the name of Corto Maltese.
It took me time to dive into the fantastic world of Corto Maltese, this mysterious romantic traveler. This character invented by Hugo Pratt, a kind-hearted pirate, born in Valletta. Hero of several adventures that take place in different cities from Venice to the most remote place of Manchuria. The adventures of Corto Maltese always deal with dreams, mists and poesy. Constantly traveling the world from a place to another, discovering treasures, seducing women & meeting strange people, Corto Maltese is the perfect embodiment of the living romantic sailor, starving for discovery, leaving everything behind always with a veiled regret.
So I began reading and reading the adventures of this strange yet appealing character. There are lots of stories Corto lived, so many that we may wonder if he had several lives. But one of the most striking one was (and still is) for me the "Fable of Venice". A story about a hidden treasure within the city of Venice where Hugo Pratt used to live. A story filled with dreams. When I went to Venice with my parents and sister, I couldn't stop myself from retracing the footsteps of Corto, searching for the answers to his questions. I think that this trip, this city of Venice combined with my passion for Corto and his dreamy adventures gave me the will to travel the world, a bit like him.
There are trips & travels that make you grow from the inside. Deep inside of you. That leave you vulnerable. Japan with my family was one of these kinds of trips. Going there was an experience I don't want to forget and that I won't.
...and recently Istanbul.
Istanbul was the city I only knew thanks to my history books as Constantinople. The city-capital of the Oriental Roman Empire. I never had the chance to go there, see Hagia Sophia, the mystic basilica of the Holy Wisdom. As I was anchored in Athens, next to this city, I took the chance to go there. I think that now that I've been there, Corto can be proud of me. I traveled to this city, opening my heart to everything the city could offer to my young soul, making acquaintances. A bit like living the dream. It was more that a simple five-day trip to a city, it was a initiation to the true meaning of respect. I found back the beauty & mind wealth I witnessed in Japan. The same bliss in the air. Getting there with only one bag and seizing the core of the city, its poesy was one of the best experiences I've ever lived.
Wishing for the years to flash by has left me blind. I am waiting for the few fleeting moments the world makes sense to me. Istanbul was one of these moments.
If I have to remember one teaching from this trip it is: go beyond the clichés & see for yourself who the people really are.
