Qhen my mother argued furiously with my father, she announced it theatrically as a gesture of extreme transgression “I’m going to the cinema”, he would take the front door and slam it behind him.
Dad continued to read the newspaper, unperturbed, my brother and I looked at each other with a questioning expression, because mum never went to the cinema and maybe she didn’t even like it.
I would understand, years later, that it was her emphatic way of communicating that family life was too tight for her and he needed something else. Air, freedom, movement. Autonomy. Even a bit of loneliness. It is no coincidence that shortly thereafter she would start teaching again and rediscover herself.
Danda Santini director of “iO Donna” (photo by Carlo Furgeri Gilbert).
When I first entered a hotel room alone, on a business trip, in the evening I went down to get a sandwich in the nearest bar. The next day, to test myself, I chose the restaurant: hesitant when asked “Is the lady alone?”, embarrassed until I realized that no one was interested in me, and only then relaxed.
Only then would I find out the sybaritic luxury of “room service”, the true benefit of travel: large untouched bed available, order and silence, long hot bath without interruptions, bathrobe and then a delicious dinner on TV (omelette and chips, something with chocolate), free zapping and without discussions.
Today, if I happen to have lunch alone on business trips, to the waiter’s question “Are you alone?”, I reply nonchalantly, “Yes”. She alone with my thoughts, with me, with what I have done and what I will do. It’s not what I want all my life, but what I need every now and then in life.
Illustration by Cinzia Zenocchini
For this reason I understand well why so many women happily accompanied, with cheerful and noisy children, after a summer with a full-time family load, large tables, daily shopping and too many dishwashers to load and unload, each with a different need and time which is getting tighter and tighter, they can dreaming of escaping, at least for a few hours, a short weekend, a trip to a spaa ride with friends.
Who aren’t hungry at all hours of the day but are used to an unseasoned saladthey don’t make and break crazy programs that you have to adapt to, they are punctual, they love wandering around vintage markets and can spend an entire afternoon in a museum without getting bored.
And I also understand solo travelers (ever more numerous), who savor the rare privilege of being able to follow their own inspiration, without asking or having to mediate, their eyes wide open with curiosity, their senses alerted to avoid danger, their mind euphoric for the infinite possibilities. With our heads held high, truly free from everything and everyone, at least for a little while. To then return, loving everything and everyone a little more.
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