A few years ago, one of my godsister's and her husband (my godbrother by marriage), moved to Southern California. At the time I thought it was a peculiar move. Upon their move, I saw pictures on FB of wine tastings they would go to. I remember thinking that her wistful new life was interesting. However, I'm at the point in my life where I embrace the wistful ideas.
I remember when I first visited Europe with my dad, I fell in love with a few countries we passed through. I instantly fell in love with the nature of Norway. My father and I stayed in a town, Askim, about an hour and a half away from Oslo. The drive through the permafrost was lovely.
Next, I fell in love with Austria. The people were so welcoming and gentle. We were able to stay in Vienna and Linz.
Finally, I fell in love with Spain. Namely, I fell for the atmosphere of Barcelona. Since then, I have said that Barcelona felt like 99% of 100% to me--a place to settle down. That's saying something because NYC is 100/100, and Manila, where I'm from is 80/100 (blame the humidity).
Digressing, the dream I had was to live in Barcelona and open a tapas bar and art gallery. It would be a bohemian type of life. Eclectic and deliberate.
Anyway, today, as I attended an event at the Harvard Club of NYC, I felt a certain excitement. The event was a talk about the "sixth sense"--memory, and how Remy Martin Louis XIII Cognac evokes memories. With this, I fancied the thought of being a sommelier. That is something I'll think about further.
On the way home, I remembered this conversation I had with an old friend. We would set up a surf shop in Cebu, Philippines. My grandfather's family owns a small strip of land by an eco-reserve in their city. It would be eco-tourism at its best.
Tonight, though, I will think about the challenge next month. NaNoWriMo, here I come. I've gotten a few ideas for plot and the like. I'm super excited.