Finding an inspiration: Travels

I do not believe in the idea that you start something to get an inspiration for your creative production. It doesn't matter whether we are talking about paintings, sculpture, photography, writing or whatever else that involves a creative process.
I believe that inspiration comes by chance, without the need to search for it.
I have dedicated my holidays and part of my free time to travel or to plan the next trip. I have started relatively late to travel in my life; the life of a student is a poor and humble life, particularly if you have to work to pay your studies. In many countries you can use the student loan (a way to be robbed since the young age), luckily, I didn't have this option so I had to work and study.
Left aside my past life, since I started to travel and see the world outside my comfort zone, I had the chance to open my mind to other realities totally alien from the one I was used to. I could get in touch with cultures of which I could only read in the articles of papers or in some travel guide...
That is not enough!
I realised that I had no idea of what was outside my country until I could touch other realities with my own hands.
My very first  real journey was in Africa; first destination Kenya, without any idea of what was waiting for me.
It was quite a long time ago, digital cameras were not yet even in commerce, and the ones that were available were not for everyone to buy.  I was not lodged in one of those fancy five star hotels and I actually booked one hotel only for the first two nights. I wasn't sure whether I was going to stay in Nairobi for the whole length of the holiday or I would have liked to visit also Tanzania or see if we could arrange a safari.
Again, no clue!
I travelled with my husband, and already as we travelled in the taxi from the airport to the hotel (yes, no airport pick-up), we could see the differences from our country and I was caught in the admiration of the landscape. I was amazed of how different life looked like from western countries, just as if it were another world. Indeed, somehow it is another world; it is a different culture, and another way to go on day after day. However, just for this diversity, I was attracted by it.
I will not go through the details of the entire journey; I might leave this for another book project.

I will let some of the pictures I took to talk on my behalf.
What I truly fell in love with was the simplicity of the people, their friendliness and contagious happiness. It made me rethink about my life, about what I really need to be happy and live a good life. I realised that I was wrong, and I didn't need all the gadgets I had, and since then my life had been easier.

Watching a documentary on TV, might amaze you, and it is easy to dream about those places. However, if you think you have seen it all, you are fooling yourself, as there are no words to describe the feelings of being in the presence of those magnificent animals. Nothing compares to the experience of having them so close, in one of the most beautiful natural environment on Earth.

Then there is, of course, the proud tribe of the Maasai, we were lucky to approach them not as tourists coming to have a taste of wildlife, but as foreigners trying to understand different lifestyles and cultures. We spend nice time chatting and learning from each other, even if at that point I suppose I was the one who learned the most.
Of course, I could never share their same lifestyle, but I could get the chance to rethink one more time about my life and the way I wanted to live it.

From Kenya, we decided to have a short trip to Tanzania. Even if it were for a few days, we thought it would have been interesting to see the differences between the two countries. We couldn't have any time to reach the Kilimanjaro, for which, we reserved to schedule another journey only for it.
The real adventure on that part of our holiday was the trip from Arusha to Mombasa, where we had booked a room in a hotel which had its own beach. After that road trip, we thought we needed some comfort. What we didn't yet know was how badly we needed after the last road trip
We decided to reach Mombasa by bus, so that we could have the chance to see more of the environment.
The travel agent who sold us the tickets, assured us we would have one of the best buses available and that the journey would have last not more than four-five hours. At that point we were not really aware of the distances, nor about the conditions of the roads.
We reached the bus station and we realised what was supposed to be the "best bus we have."
It was something that surely had four wheels, an engine and somewhat a body; however, if that was the best they had, I didn't even dare to imagine what was their worst.
The floor had holes in many places and it seemed that it was set on fire several times. No air condition, and the windows were blocked closed. You cannot imagine the heat!
Our trip started and after three hours our reserves of water were over. We didn't have any idea of where we were nor how far we were from Mombasa. The only thing clear was that we were in the middle of nowhere in a place without roads and with a driver that wanted to establish a Guinness record on the travel time. Most of us asked him to stop for at least our physiological needs, but he didn't even listen. He stopped only when people started to threat him seriously.
In any case, the journey last not four-five hours, but eight. I have no idea how did I survived, because I was extremely dehydrated, I needed a shower and also to go to the restroom.
I was in shock.
The other agent came to pick us up from the bus station and considering our state, he was smart enough not to ask us about the trip.
The formalities were taking far too long and I wasn't even listening what he was blabbering, I just needed a toilet and water, a lot of water.
We managed finally to reach the hotel in the evening...
Oh- and Ah!!
It was a paradise lost.
Far away from the city, and the noises, far from civilization.
A beautiful white beach, palms and a bamboo bar/restaurant.
I had something like two litres of water, which I consumed in a few minutes, a long shower and a great dinner.
The following days were pure bliss, it was us, the beach, the ocean, and the palms...
We spend time walking a lot to discover the natural beauties of the place, gathering shells, and resting. It felt like all the misfortunes in our journey have been worthwhile.
One day we were resting on the beach admiring the waves coming and going, when a voice interrupted our thoughts:
"A mango?"
We turned our gazes and there was standing an old man pushing an even older bike where there was a basket full of mangoes.
"They're good," he assured.
"Well, why not? Can we have one divided in half?" I asked.
"Of course," he said and took out a knife which was slightly smaller than an average machete, and with surgical precision, he cut a mango in half, practiced perpendicular cuts on the flesh and handed the two perfect halves to us, "It is one dollar," he said with a bright smile.
I gave him two dollars for the skills, and thanked him.
I have no idea whether it was the magic of the place, the kindness of that man or whatever else.
The fact is that the mango was the most delicious fruit I've ever tasted.

We returned home after a couple of weeks; our life had changed, and we could no more live without Africa.
I guess that this is what they call "Africa blues," we felt like we were missing something in our lives, and we realised that our hearts were left there on those endless prairies, running with the gazelles, hunting with the lions, jumping with the monkeys, and bathing with the hippos. Our heart was in that amazing starry sky and the Maasai tales told in front of the fire. We left something important, and for this reason we needed to go back.
We had no idea that going back meant only lose another piece of our hearts in that amazing land, but we did, again and again...