Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu

Day 238 – Melancholy

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I miss driving. I miss waking up in the morning and wanting to drive 300 km away. I miss the solitude of driving and the music played loudly by the stereo. I miss it all.

When I need to be somewhere, if given the choice I will always choose the train. Trains are comfortable, trains are your moving libraries that safely take you to your destination. But, a car… a car should only be used for travelling, with the soul purpose of showing you a good time wherever you want to go. As soon as you use them for work related things, they loose their value and they are no longer your friends.

I built a relationship with every car I had. They all had pet names, they all had their own personalities and I am grateful to all of them. I never had a favorite (or maybe I did, I don’t remember), I cherished them all. My first car, taught me (and many others) how to drive with and without a licence. It was a she. She faced every challenge we threw her way and took us around the country, to explore, to have fun, to just be. If that car could talk she would have plenty to say. She could make you cry and laugh in the same time from all the tragic and comical stuff she heard while cruising. My second car was a work car, but he never complained having to commute on the Tuscan hills 100 km each day. Yes, it was a he. A big, fat, heavy he. We often rewarded him with a trip to Genoa, France, or to the seaside. I am not sure if he could understand us, as he was Italian and we didn’t use that language while driving it, but he certainly had some fun with us. The old lady, our next car, was the one to see and witness me being stuck on the highway for 7 hours when it snowed in Florence. I didn’t love her as much, but still took her to Venice and France for a stroll. And here we are: the last one, my beautiful scarab. Sometimes it’s a she, sometimes a he. Gender doesn’t even matter when it comes to this car because this car has seen it all. It saw the places we come from, the places we love, the family we built, our highs and lows, our friends, our family; all of it.

I miss driving. Watching the Tuscan sunset,travelling somewhere near the seaside, constantly searching for some new destination, singing a familiar song and laughing just because I am on the road. Yes, I definitely miss driving.

About the author

Ela Vasilescu

I’m a writer based in Florence, Italy.

Human nature inspires me, different cultures, traditions, folk stories and the differences which make us unique. Documenting stories is a privilege, a glimpse into humanity, an unforgettable experience, one which I embrace and honour every day.

If you have a story twitching in the back of your pocket, one that is ready to be told, shared and heard, chances are I will be ready to listen; so don’t hesitate to send me an email.

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By Ela Vasilescu
Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu