It seems as though there is an infinite variety of ways to explore Genoa.
I couldn't resist using those words. Most easily, you can use your own two feet, alone or guided. There is a hop on/hop off bus. There are segway tours. A miniature train tour. And, of course, public transport. There are boats, bikes, outdoor elevators, and a funicular too.
And this rickshaw guided tour ...
Really.
Nervi, in Liguria, is hosting EuroFlora this year. And as the small coastal town is only 9kms from Genoa, so it is that Genoa is celebrating the international event with a variety of EuroFlora-orientated actions.
The most startling, for me, has been the overnight appearance of 100s of brightly-coloured umbrellas, hanging above particular streets here in the city.
Walking to work recently, I discovered Via Aprile's sky-view had been completely filled with open umbrellas. And over days, other streets and ceilings too, have been filled in the same way.
I wanted to capture the display in a different way, and actually ended up taking a series of images. The photograph above was my favourite.
I think, like a creature that was domesticated for a while, I'm learning how to be alone and free again. And to really treasure the freedoms I have.
I was wandering today. All over this city I love. And at sunset, I went to the coast and played a while, I took this.
My daughter gifted me the most beautiful leather camera strap for my birthday. My beloved old camera bag died but I had another, brand-new but bigger. I finally put everything together and went out ... feeling kind of new to this Canon 5D MK II camera thing.
I've been pushing things with my phone camera. Applying the rules of photography, playing but seriously.
I'm pleased with this.
So much has happened since my previous post. Then again, 'so much' is normal here. The city is vibrantly alive, and offers up so many stories and secret places, that I could wander happily for a hundred years or more.
I've been using my phone camera a lot. Pushing it hard, to see what is possible. Applying the rules of photography to the little Samsung Galaxy. I used it for this photograph, taken in Piazza De Ferrari. one dark and rainy night.
The view from my bedroom makes me so happy. After months of having the shutters closed by the scaffolding around the building, they finally took it all down and left me with this.
It's 13 celsius, on this winters day in Liguria, and my windows are open.
And yes, I'm still loving it here. Even more, if that is possible
I'm sitting here, on the second-last step of the marble stairs in Liguria,, listening to a small group of Italians studying traditional Irish music, played on the fiddle, with Marco Fabbri.
There's a wood burner softening the air, creating that blur where my New Zealand memories exist ...the smoke, the big cosy lounge, and the gathering of good people, reminds me of home, of times past.
I arrived here on Friday night and have been quietly delighting in my good fortune ever since. Marco is both a superb musician and excellent teacher, and the workshop has been a joy to attempt to capture ... both in photographs and on video.
As I write this, 5 fiddlers are playing 'Murphy's', led by Marco's foot tapping out the beat. Paola's B&B is in her home and it's a beautiful home, with unlimited early-morning coffee, which is so important to me these days. And there's this bed I'm going to struggle to leave, as it's the best I've slept in since leaving New Zealand so many years ago.
Yesterday's lunch was at a local bar and last night's dinner was in my favourite pizzeria down in the city. 'In the city' because after dinner we made our way into the heart of the caruggi where Marco and fellow Roman. Gabriele Caporuscio, played their beautiful Irish music. Afterwards they were joined by a few local musicians and had a 'session'.
The big challenge was the lighting, down there in the medieval basement, where light was limited to candlelight. Not the best for photography but interesting, with the ISO cranked up to 6000+ ... as above.
1am, we 4 dragged ourselves back to the car and made the 30 minute journey, back up into the hills, where we only had the strength to say a series of 'Buona nottte's,' before disappearing to our rooms.
Sunday morning, and it's been more than 24 hours of Irish music, eating, some laughing and a little drinking too ... I don't want to leave but isn't that how the best workshops go.
But I wanted to write this while the woodsmoke was still in the air, and while the workshop was still happening, and while I was full of the peace that comes from living out a most excellent experience.
And I was lucky to get here, much has been happening and I was exhausted when the invitation arrived. I almost said no to this but suspected it would be to good to miss. It has been so much better than I could have imagined. The people have been kind, and there has been the delight of other musicians swirling in and out of the group.
I'll go back to work on the photographs but ciao from this beautiful slice of Ireland, up here in the hills above Genova.
... if I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters daydreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.
Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space
