My mornings begin slowly in this golden city in Italy. Morning after morning, I wake to soft blue skies and 30 celsius. It's changing the pulse of my body ... of my mind.
I am finding my feet but so slowly.
Every time I move countries, I have to relocate everything. The names of simple things change with the language. Favourite places and people need to be discovered. And I search for that new rhythm for my days ... for my life.
My holy moment, those breakfasts I love, have to be hunted and gathered again. Reframed by what is available. I haven't quite found 'breakfast' here ... not yet.
My skin is becoming brown, my feet have become accustomed to open leather sandals, and I wear that silky clothing I found in the secondhand shops in Surrey. And I'm bemused because I've never been a silky clothing kind of woman. But it's hot. Really hot.
I have this idea now, that wearing clothes only happens because we have been civilised. In Genova, the heat and humidity dictate that we only cover the skin that we must cover because any more coverage is just plain insane.
But the city and its colour... I began this wanting to try and describe the peachy, golden glow of the buildings here.
In the past, I've always lived 'in' the city but this time is different, just for a while. And as my bus rolls down the hill into the city, I see the glow of the buildings and begin to understand that colour is one of the things that has made me fall in me love this ancient place.
Even here, looking out from my borrowed balcony, the buildings are shades of pale yellow through into gold and terracotta. And yes, then there's the blue sky, arching over it all ... every single day so far.
Life feels soft. The air, the sea, the colours that surround me. It's early days and I'm letting myself sink into them slowly. Knowing I shouldn't but unable to help it. To rush, to be stressed, to worry ... would be to waste it all.
I have half-constructed that precious breakfast. There's a coffee machine here so I have my espresso. Peaches are ripe and cheap at the moment ... they remind me of Christmas, long summer holidays, and home. And there's cereal but this is definitely only an 'under-construction' kind of breakfast. The search continues ...
My dinners are mostly about salad. Paysanne Salade might loosely identify the mix of ingredients that find their way onto my plate. Sweet lettuce and baby tomatoes, and a little cooked bacon. Sweet potatoes (New Zealand's kumara) cubed and lightly fried in some oil, with pieces bread falling into that pan too ... after the bacon.
I'm not sick of it yet.
I have so many stories of good people and marvelous adventures. It's time to start telling them but first ... you understand, I had to mention the colour.
