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I started at – 57. It started very slow, it felt like a century and only one day had passed; -34, I could almost say “In a month I’ll be in Italy”, -14 “only two weeks left!”, -10, -7, and here I am today, at four days to departure realizing I will see my mountains soon.

Planning is not my thing anymore. Packing at the very last minute is more exciting. I just have to remember my camera and its charger; if I don’t forget those, I will survive.

Browsing through old pictures I get even more excited. I’d like to be there, in the very moment when I took the photo; but I know that patience will bring me great adventures and a bunch of amazing new memories to keep.

I can’t wait: meeting friends at our old spots, walking on the beach at midnight, having an ice cream in the middle of the night, and enjoying every single fruit and vegetable I pick from the garden. I will treasure every gathering just as much as I will treasure every moment I will spend alone surrounded by nature.

 

 

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