Rob, the Scottish Guy Living in Ireland

A long long time ago, I met a lovely bloke online ... in a chatroom called Travel and we became friends.

He was one of many really good friends I made there.  There was Mary Lou and Marco, Diede and Eltje, Maddalena and so many others.  We're all still friends today but it was Rob, the Scottish guy who used to live in Australia that I wanted to write about here.

He and his wife moved back to this side of the world a few years ago, to Ireland of course, that lovely Scottish couple.  And we were once again on the same side of the world.

We wandered over to stay with them there in Oughterard back in 2011, it my first time driving in years.  Oh how I loved that!

And days unfolded with visits to stations of the cross up in the hills, tree-creatures, and we met highway robbers there too.

It was lovely. 

Today I remembered it all when I found the red rowboat photograph from Oughterard.

Magazines from Home

Mana from Heaven ... or that's how the 3 New Zealand magazines I was given have seemed on this lazy Sunday afternoon.

Not that I was lazy.  I have a bin full of paper on the floor next to my desk and my desk is less littered with papers and notes and ... stuff.

Each time I reached a 'clearing/organising' milestone I would allow myself to read another of those 3 magazines. 

North & South was probably my favourite.  Then again, it always was.

I'm aching with flu.  It's been all around me but I had no plans for it myself.  I thought it might have been a food allergy.  I slept yesterday afternoon and then all night too.  A rare feat for me to do both.  I woke feeling better but by lunchtime I was aching and ready to sleep all over again.   I guess it's the season so I'll just concentrate on the fact that I am so glad to see Spring.

I was lucky, I had the book At Least You're in Tuscany for company, so I powered through it these last 24 hours.  Jennifer Criswell offers another take on giving up your career and moving to Italy.

Last night I dreamed I flew home to New Zealand.  It was a long and difficult journey.  A complicated dream.  And so it was incredibly disappointing to wake and find myself still here in Belgium.

There was a red rowboat, parked up on the beach, last time I was home ...

A New Week, Genova

Friday night’s jazz and cooking evening had to be cancelled, as the cold sucked all of my energy out of me.  Then Saturday’s dinner at Arenzano was postponed till Sunday, due to ... my cough, lack of energy and etc.

Saturday night was a nightmare.  I coughed until 6am, then slept until 10.30am.  Francesca, Beppe, Romi and Marco were so kind putting up with the tired creature who arrived for lunch.  Then again, the conversations were so interesting that I think they revitalised me. 

Last night, I took cough mixture, a natural kind, and can you believe it ... I slept.  Almost all night.  It was a stunning departure from recent nights.

I bounced out of of bed at 8.30am today, dressed and caught the bus out to Boccadasse, deciding that these new energy levels needed tested out alongside the sea, with a stroll on Corso Italia. 
The photograph below was a part of the view ... it was lovely out there, just lovely.