Flashback Friday - Trieste, Italy


Karis Rogerson karis.rogerson@gmail.com

Welcome to a quest post by Karis Rogerson from Living Life the Write Way - https://karisrogerson.com/
Karis is a writer and journalist living in New York City. She grew up in Italy and Germany and this week, shares her love of Trieste, Italy! Thank you, Karis!

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Trieste, Italy Holds My Heart



Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to run out of words to speak of my love for Trieste or if I’ll die before that day comes.
Trieste — my soul sings for her. She is a city, squashed between the Adriatic Sea and
Il Carso, a series of crags and hills, that seems to hold a siren’s call over my heart. I dream of her cobblestone streets, the way her Canal Grande carves a path into the city, the way the sea laps at her shores and the Carso looms above her.

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When I first visited, I was enchanted mainly by Miramare, the white palace that sits atop a rock above the city, perched over the sea, nearly tilting forward as though to fling herself into the water. I wandered the halls built by Ferdinand Maximilian, the halls he barely inhabited because he was killed in Mexico soon after becoming emperor there, and prayed I would get to live there.

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I stood in Charlotte’s bedroom and declared it mine, wore mental grooves along the secret passageway from her chambers to the chapel, imagined sprawling on her bed or examining my clothes in her dressing room, and I was hooked.

A few years after that first visit, my family moved into an apartment right on the edge of downtown. I can still hear the distinctive
creak creak of the wood floors as we passed from room to room down the long hallway, have the shade of orange we painted the walls seared into my mind, and know the view from the balcony by heart.

I know that it takes five minutes to walk to my middle school,
Dante Alighieri, where I made friends I still love. From there, it’s through Piazza Oberdan, across Via Carducci, down the canal and to the waterfront. A short walk leads you to Molo Audace, the dock that jets into the water, from whence you can watch the Christmas lights play across the buildings of Piazza dell’Unita’ and admire the blue lights that mark a spot, nearly halfway into the plaza, where the water used to reach.

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All Photos Copyright ©Karis Rogerson

I know that Viale XX Settembre is the place to be to stroll with your friends, grab some ice cream or catch a movie. I know that if you stopped nearly anywhere in the city and looked around you, an Instagram-worthy photo op would be there, just waiting for you.
Trieste held a similar hold of the heart of James Joyce, and I use that knowledge to justify my own obsession.

Trieste is a beautiful city, full of history, full of great architecture, good food and friendly faces. More importantly, Trieste is
home. I might not have moved there until I was in sixth grade; I might not have lived there full-time since I was in ninth grade; I might not know when I’ll be back next; but Trieste is my childhood home, the place I adore the most in the world.

Not just because it’s beautiful; not just because, unlike Venice, Rome and Florence, Trieste gives you a true glimpse into what it’s like to be Italian; not just because the lights reflecting on the rippling waves are entrancing; but because I have history there.

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I grew up a semi-nomad; Trieste was the fourth city I lived in by the time I was 11. I spent a few years here, a few years there, a month or so in America and a few more in Italy.

In Trieste, I put down roots. I made a home for myself. I had my first crushes there, made my first long-term best friends there, experienced my first heartbreak there. I wore the streets and the soles of my shoes down walking to and from school with my friends. I imbibed more
gelato, pizza and pasta than you could weigh. I had fights with my parents, temper tantrums, and friendship breakups.

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I lived life in Trieste, and because of that every landmark in that city is marked, imperceptibly, with my memories, my fantasies, my hopes and dreams.

Trieste is the city that houses the deepest, most secret parts of my soul, and it’s beautiful nonetheless.

For that, I will never grow tired of singing her praises.

Links of Interest:

Trieste - Lonely Planet - https://www.lonelyplanet.com/italy/friuli-venezia-giulia/trieste

In a Quiet Corner of Italy - Trieste - http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/01/travel/01trieste-italy.html?_r=0

A Trip to Trieste: Italy’s Most Beautifully Haunting City - http://www.wsj.com/articles/a-trip-to-trieste-italys-most-beautifully-haunting-city-1449167192

Trieste - Adriactic Sea - Italy - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VFAG6mTss4

Have you been to Italy and Trieste? Tell us your experiences!

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