Today I received a notification that my visa application was refused, which really bums me out.
I wouldn’t mind it as much if private property owners in my desired destination were the ones who kept me out. But it’s these embassies that presume such a role, of controlling who’s allowed in and out. As it is, I complied as best as I can with their bureaucracy, but it wasn’t enough.
It’s a real shame. I’d been fantasizing just walking around, taking in the air in these relatively temperate regions, with their mountains and other scenery, both manmade and non-manmade.
Now, I guess I’ll have to wait till the countries are in the midst of depression and the governments become desperate for tourist revenue.
“At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty, and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson