Half an hour. 30 minutes. I can teach a reasonably good reading session in this time. Walk my dog in this time. Have a great chat in this time.

Today, I sat and ordered an Aperol Spritz for ‘Apertivo’, a brilliant Italian tradition where by alcoholic drinks are consumed with the company of salty snacks in order to stimulate the appetite (like happy hour with a serve of cheese! Australia, can we adopt this?)

And for half an hour, 30 minutes, I watched a young lady in a red polka dot dress, a strategically placed hand bag over her brown shoulders. I noticed her hair framing her perfectly made up face, with a pair of expensive sunglasses perched on the end of her nose.

For half an hour she stood on the steps on a beautiful Amalfi cathedral… and without any shame had what I would hope and assume to be her husband or boyfriend take copious amounts of photos. She was hair flicking. ‘Naturally’ walking down the steps. Sitting. Standing. Standing at the top. Standing at the bottom. Holding her dress out like she was doing a courtesy. Pouting. Smiling. Looking to the left. Looking to the right. Looking at the camera to see if she liked any of the shots. Not liking any of the shots and trying again. And again. And again. Eventually, she left. I wonder if she even knew what the cathedral was? Did she even look at how amazing the architecture was? Did she notice all the gold trimmings and question how long this had been standing? And how on earth they built to such detail all those years ago? Probably not.

My point is, while traveling this month I have lost count of the amount of ‘modelling’ I have seen, and have found it quite amusing to watch. But at the same time worry about purpose. It seems for so many the purpose of a visit somewhere beautiful is for the ‘perfect’ Instagram photo. It makes me sad that so much of their precious time is spent that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve shamelessly asked strangers or friends to take my photo at beautiful spots. A quick snap, where I’ve felt reasonably uncomfortable. Photos where I clearly didn’t know what to do with my arms, or what face to pull other than to smile. I don’t know how to ‘work it’, and was shocked when strangers behind the lens would start giving me advice – “now turn around and look over your shoulder”, “Stand up straight”, “Why don’t we go over this way a little?” – umm ok. Man I wish I brushed my hair today or didn’t just drop gelato all down my top.

So many beautiful sights in Europe, and while others have been searching for cameras to make the memory last, I’ve often just said, I think I’ll just enjoy this one with my eyes…

But for your amusement here are some photos of me looking awkward.

I don’t have a sexy red polka dot dress. I don’t wear makeup or carry expensive bags, but I have a smile and I look happy. And what more could I ask for when I reflect back to this time of my life?

Work it, Kel.