Baby, it's time to go!

I really liked the job at the Hotel and Ian would have hired me immediately, but I obviously stopped him, saying that I had to talk about it at home, before making a final decision. Accepting to move abroad is a choice that brings with it a mix of emotions, hopes and fears. The feelings were conflicting. On the one hand I wanted this new adventure, on the other I knew that accepting it meant moving away from my partner and my children, who although now adults, still needed me. So I spoke openly with Denis and my son and we came to this decision: I would leave if Denis had the goal of joining me in the short-medium term, while my son would continue to live with him and attend university. I wrote to Ian saying that I would accept the job under certain conditions and he accepted without batting an eyelid. We decided that I would start in January 2012. I resigned at the office and prepared myself for the new adventure.

Needless to say, my family took the news like a cold shower and looked at me like a Martian, obviously not understanding my choice. "Why leave? Why leave everything you have?" are questions that resonate within the walls of the house. The answers are never simple. It is difficult to explain to the people you love the personal reasons that push you to make such difficult choices; they cannot understand your desire to start over in order to be happy again, the desire to challenge yourself once again. They saw it only as an escape, a selfish decision, not understanding how much this choice was considered, how much it cost on a personal level and how much courage it took to make it your own.

There were 4 of us; me, Denis, his daughter Consuelo and my niece Giulia. The plan was to spend New Year's Eve in Edinburgh and then board a boat for Rothesay on January 2nd. They would stay a couple of days on the island and then fly back to Italy. The weather forecast wasn't the best for the first few days of the year. It predicted a very strong windstorm. We stayed at Ian's Hotel and on the day we arrived the wind started to arrive. We still managed to tour the island and I really realised how beautiful and spectacular Bute was from a landscape point of view. That same night a very violent windstorm hit Scotland, especially the western part. Gusts of 200 km per hour hit the island of Bute and the mainland, causing power cuts, uprooted trees, roofs flying off in a nanosecond; it was a disaster that caused huge damage everywhere. All ferries were obviously cancelled until further notice. As a welcome it wasn't bad. Arriving on an island and finding yourself immersed in a windstorm is an experience that mixes adrenaline with vulnerability. The wind - that symbol of change and uncontrollable forces - seemed to shake not only the surrounding environment but also the spirit of those who were moving. In that moment you realize how fragile you are in the face of the unknown.

Denis was starting to get worried. The island was without electricity, without connections to the mainland and they had to be at the airport in Edinburgh in 2 days. We waited for better news while the anxiety and nervousness grew as the hours passed. We still didn't know anything about the ferries; the overlapping news said the route was about to be re-started, but nothing certain about the timetable. We warned the night porter that if he had news of the reactivation of the route between Rothesay and Wemyss Bay to let us know immediately at any time. We spent the night almost without sleeping because the anxiety was so high. Denis worriedly asked me: "Are you sure of what you're doing?". But convinced of my decision I didn't give up. I had come this far and I didn't want to give up now. At 6:00 in the morning we heard a knock on the door. It was the night porter who told us that the first ferry would leave in half an hour. They quickly packed up, loaded the car and we said goodbye. It was a heartbreaking goodbye, in the dark, on the street, hurried and full of emotions. Now I understood the pain of all those people who left their loved ones, their families and friends to move abroad. It's as if they were ripping out a part of you, of your identity and you are aware that that part that is taken away from you you will have to replace with new friends and new experiences, but it will take time, an infinite amount of time. The pain of saying goodbye, however, is also a testimony of how strong the roots that bind us to people are and God knows how much I felt tied to those people

We were without electricity and heat for another 3 days. But the locals were calm. They told me: "We have candles for lighting and we can use the gas cylinders for cooking, we don't lack anything". They were people used to the fickleness of the weather; island people used to being self-sufficient in any occasion and eventuality. And I found myself smiling again, surrounded by people who I felt very friendly.

If this story has engaged you, keep following the blog! In the next post I will talk about my new life on the Isle of Bute. Don't miss my next chapter of my life experience.