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I finally went on that life-changing trip

I first came to Puglia in 2008, I think it must have been early October. I'd had an awesome time in Tuscany and Rome and Calabria and was arriving there by train, filled to the max with beautiful experiences and electric connections, not really expecting much else than just a half-boring yoga teacher training that I had signed up for, not really knowing what else to do with my life after finishing my degree in Indian Philosophy at SOAS, University of London. 

As the train cut through Basilicata and into Puglia, the amount of olive trees that swooshed past started to be shocking. After a while, I realised that it just wasn't going to end. Endless amount of them, large, proud, thick. Planted in perfect rows, with no sigh of the end, or the horizon. 

My eyes widened as I started to think I was hallucinating. Was I going insane?
It went on for hours. Endless olive trees. I felt as if there was a movie on repeat outside of the train window. 

As the train finally stopped in Bari, I waited for my ride to the yoga retreat place, sitting on top of my faithful long-term travelling friend the green backpack. 
Sitting there, in the taxi, on the way to that place where I would do the yoga teacher training, my eyes widened even more as I now was sure that I was in fact hallucinating for real. What I saw there, as we rode into the Valle d'Itria, was something so otherworldly. How come I had never seen a picture of this place? How come this had existed all my life and I'd had no idea about it? 
As we arrived at the restored masseria, the whole place was surrounded by a weird purple light. 

I walked into that beautiful building, carrying my heavy pack on my back, and as I entered that house, it was like I was being swallowed up by a UFO, which catapulted me into a different time and space. I only was spat out of it four months later. 

I always thought I'd go back here, to remember, and to see this mysteriously beautiful land through more mature and secure eyes. 
But somehow I thought it would be far away in the future, like when I was in my 60's, eyes cushioned by wrinkles, mind filled with wisdom and life experience. I didn't think I'd have the guts to face this place so soon. 
But circumstances convinced and pushed me in this direction, and in February, I landed in Bari.
I spent three days in my rented Fiat, driving around the endless trulli and olive trees, and it was one of the most exciting times of my life. Alone, in this fantasy. As if it wasn't really happening. As if I was in a dream. All so beautiful, my heart broke in thousand new pieces and expanded itself. So overwhelming. My children, at home in Ibiza, a distant dream. My life, my work, all like another planet, vey far away. 

I started writing, finally, that thing I've been planning on writing for so long, there at the hotel called Casa d'Autore, in Ostuni. 

Life changing and as if it never happened. I long to go back there, to this sacred land that engulfs my soul, and makes me feel as if I am hallucinating from all the surreal beauty around me. 

Now that I am back to my reality, I think back to those three days filled with wonder. I was like Alice in Wonderland. It was like the Rabbit Hole of my inner eternity. I sometimes get flashbacks and I stop what I am doing, and stare into my own darkness. My darkness has a purple light shining far inside. I can almost reach it. 

I think my soul might belong there. 

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