Have I told you about the time I went to Spain? About how I stood at the edge of the cliff at Formentor and stared in wonder at the magnificence of the ocean?
The aquamarine of the Mediterranean Sea is something that cannot be explained, it’s brilliance cannot be captured by the photos (though God knows I tried!)
It is breathtakingly beautiful, and a bit frightening. Frightening because it’s so massive and overwhelming that you feel dwarfed and insignificant standing there, at the edge of the cliff, with the wind whipping around you, threatening to throw you off. You’re suddenly stripped of the facade which has been carefully constructed throughout your life to give you the impression of control. You realize how small you really are in the universe that is all-powerful, all encompassing… beautiful and terrible at the same time.
I stood there for a long time, not quite knowing how to express what I was feeling, not even quite sure of what exactly it was that I felt. Somehow it was vaguely comforting to know that I was only as important as a grain of sand might be to the beach. I was meant to be what I am, and that’s okay! I almost felt tempted to jump off into the ocean, not because I was suicidal, but cos it was so beautiful and somehow I felt like I wanted to be a part of it.
Well, of course I didn’t jump, or else I wouldn’t be here, writing about it.
And talking practically, I think when I die, I’ll have my ashes thrown into that ocean! My sister can make a trip of it- go to Mallorca, drink some sangria, throw my ashes into the sea… you know! :P (That’s how *i* talk practically!)
While in Mallorca, I carried my Lonely Planet around the whole time, checking the phrases at the end of the book and trying to recall whatever was taught to me in my Spanish language class! The trouble of course, is that in class you’re taught by someone who speaks slowly and enunciates with a lot of gesticulation, while in real life, you’re hit in the face with volley of vowels that you can’t make any sense of and you’re left frantically turning the pages of your phrasebook to where you last saw ” please could you repeat that SLOWLY?”, all while your friend is standing next to you skeptically, muttering about you wasting money on lessons that clearly hadn’t come to any use!
It was fun though, trying to speak a different language, embracing a new culture, living like the locals, eating their food, drinking their cava (oh! How I miss cava!).
I loved their joie de vivre, and for the longest time I thought I’d like to go live there! In fact, I still believe I’d like to die there. I feel it’d be a magnificent way to end it! But there’s so much more of the world to see before that! So for now… just keep on going I guess!