Back in Genova, and loving it.

I'm back in Genova and it is so very good to be here.

The journey began with a 4.30am alarm, a 5.25am tram in cold early morning rain, a 6am airport bus, a 9.25am flight, Milan.

A bus from the airport, lunch at Milan Central Station... where some charm was showered upon us by the lovely chef there.  A train to Genova, then a taxi, as we were slightly exhausted.

Out again and off into the ancient heart of the city to visit with Francesca and Norma where a  wine-tasting at Le Gramole was confirmed for tomorrow, then a stop at the Bio shop for fruit and vegetables. Back to the delicious apartment we have here, then out for the best pizza ... in the world.  Truly. 

A walk through the storm, thunder and lightning, the rain had mostly stopped while we were out walking, down the port and back here to unpack and work a little.     And here we are, working behind shutters closed over massive old open windows.  The noise is reassuringly Italy at night.  I miss these sounds when I'm back in Antwerp.  People are talking and laughing, sometimes shouting... alive, out there on the streets a few floors below this beautiful apartment in an ancient building.

Sometimes I feel so extraordinarily fortunate.  I am living a life that is rich in stories and full of good people.

It's so good to be back here.

Home ...

You know, if the truth were known I have a perfect passion for the island where I was born. Well, in the early morning there I always remember feeling that this little island has dipped back into the dark blue sea during the night only to rise again at gleam of day, all hung with bright spangles and glittering drops . . . I tried to catch that moment . . . I tried to lift that mist from my people and let them be seen and then to hide them again.

Katherine Mansfield, Writer.

I am returning to Genova in July and already my head has begun to fill with what I would like to achieve while there this time.  That city brings me alive in a way that no other place has so far.  Perhaps Istanbul came close but Genova has everything ... in just the right proportions. It is imperfectly perfect for me.

Genova, once known as La Superba, is an ancient Italian city (at least 2,000 years in the making), nestled in the arms of hills that are topped by ancient fortresses.  And at the feet of the city you have Ligurian Sea. 

The first time I saw that sea tears filled my eyes.  It had been a long time since I had been anyplace where the sea looked like home.  I was out at Nervi, photographing a Genovese family, and suddenly I was overcome by this strange sense of being back in a place that was completely familiar.

I have been thinking about things and have this idea that if you ever leave the country you were born in and move someplace else, far away, then eventually the idea of returning home can become as strange or as foreign as living in another country.

And so you move countries and become 'the other', living amongst people who are 'the other' to you.  But when you go home you realise you have become something else there as well. 

And so my place on the edge of lives and cultures is confirmed, probably for life.   That said, there is something else that happens out here.  I love people.  I love when they invite me into their worlds.  In Istanbul there were Turkish families I adored because they took care of me when I lived alone in their city.  That experience of being a guest, of being invited inside, to be a part of this celebration or that, here in Belgium, in Berlin during those months spent living and working there.  Cairo.  Naples.  France. Italy.   It's those insider journeys that make this lifestyle of mine so very very worthwhile. 

Lately I've been reading a series of biographies and fictions about New Zealand author, Katherine Mansfield ... searching for clues I think.  Something about her story speaks to me.

She left NZ in 1908 aged 20.  By 1923, she was dead from TB but not before she had revolutionised the 20th Century English short story.  She was a part of the English literary scene at the time and yet very much the colonial from the Antipodes. 

Her masterpieces—the long stories ‘At the Bay’ and ‘Prelude’—are lovingly detailed recreations of a New Zealand childhood, reports from the fringe—the edge of the world as she felt it to be. She wrote as if she’d stayed. Of course these luminous re-imaginings are lit with the affection and nostalgia of the expatriate. They would not exist without their author’s estrangement from the scenes and places and people she describes. They are set in a New Zealand of the mind, composed at the edge of Mansfield’s memory.

Source: NZ Edge.com

I'm curious about her because I relate to her on so many levels.  I feel like reading her story might tell me more about mine.  I yearn for home.  Adore it, am passionate about it and yet ... could I go back and live there again?  I really don't know anymore. 

Ahhh but all of this when really I came to post a photograph I took at the antiques market in Genova, back in May.

A New Way of Seeing ...

The new website has launched ...

And we are on Twitter and Facebook.  Places are selling.  It's so exciting.

The newsletter is still coming, I had to wait for my fabulous graphic designer and the marketing guru to ride to the rescue, in terms of logo design and site building. 

More to follow on them in the weeks ahead, as they are superb.  Speedy, efficient, inspired, talented ...

Come wandering in Genoa, Italy. 

Sometimes ...

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I were able to simply concentrate on one thing ... on just one of those wild and beautiful ideas that I have.

Perhaps it would be about me just going to Genova to work on my book.  Or if I stayed home and only worked on the photography workshops.  I wonder how it would be if I was a one-idea kind of woman.

Or if I just did the housework and cared for my family, deep-cleaning this quirky old Belgian house once a month, studying new recipes then cooking then, and taking the time to be sure my family was happy. 

And maybe I would have that dog I dream about too.

If I didn't enjoy meeting new people as I do ... or love exploring other countries so much, then that distraction-factor would be so much smaller and that much more manageable.  Perhaps.

But I am seem to be one of those people, genuinely deeply curious about almost everything.  I love photography, writing and people.  I love new people but old friends too.  I love family, and I love those messy new ideas that bubble up and spill all over the place. 

I tried staying in and working one rainy day back in Genova but the balcony beckoned and instead my camera and I attempted to capture some of the beauty just outside the glass doors. 

I miss that apartment and yet, at the same time, I am glad to be home. 

There was a BBQ last night, a reunion with some of Gert's university friends.  They were gracious and kindly allowed me into their circle.  The reunion was held in a beautiful location someplace in Belgium.  We were outside under this sail-like canopy that kept us dry while a Fiordland-New-Zealand-style tempest rumbled and crackled and downpoured around us.  It was a truly superb evening.

We hit 29 celsius yesterday ... summer is here.  The garden is luscious, between the heat and the rain, everything out there is celebrating by growing madly.

And today there's a 50th someplace in the city.   I should get ready but meanwhile ... another of the series of photographs taken from that balcony high up on Via Malta, one rainy day back in beautiful Genova.


But Genova ...

You can't visit Genova, in Italy, and not taste the pesto.  It's the home of pesto.

Well, if you have an allergy, okay ... you could miss the pesto but otherwise, you will taste of the most sublime pesto ever made while visiting that ancient Italian city. 

They know what they're doing there.  You can taste the difference.

 

 

The Fountain, Piazza De Ferrari, Genova

There are days when I achieve ridiculous amounts ... because I must. 

There are other days, when I smash into the wall that is too much to do and I am empty.

Yesterday was one of those inspired days.  This new website was born, today I was this crumpled heap who achieved things but not at the level I like to achieve.  Today was all about that early-morning school-run, the masses of laundry, about breathing ...

The new website is all about working with me in Genova, Italy.  Jess built it.  My daughter.  I was so impressed.  Her marketing campaign has begun and is impressing me too.

But finally home, with a computer screen that works, I am looking through photographs of those giddy-beautiful days spent in Genova last week.

The orange water ... the fountain there in the heart of the city is used to mark international days.  I was in the city during Multiple sclerosis week.

Stories and People ...

Maybe we refuse to acknowledge our common origins because racism causes amnesia, or because we find it unbelievable that in those days long past the entire world was our kingdom, an immense map without borders, and our legs were the only passport required.

Eduardo Galeano, Mirrors - Stories of Almost Everyone.

Re-entry is always difficult.  My life in Genova is so different to the life I live here in Antwerp.  And being house-keeper in this quirky little Belgian house means settling back into that domestic life of cleaning and cooking and taking care of people.

It's also about me creating a space that I like to spend time in and so there are peonies in the big vase downstairs ... my laundry is done, the floors have been cleaned, bread was baked, meals cooked.  The transition  is complete, I am a housewife and all kinds of other things too, again.

I've done a couple of school-runs with Miss 9 (almost Miss 10), we're on a countdown to her fourth of July birthday.  And one of those school-runs involved a much-needed detour to my place of worship and peace ... De Slegte.  I found treasure, of course.

Eduardo Galeano's book, Mirrors - Stories of Almost Everyone, was my tram-companion today.  I love that  man's humour.  His intelligence more than anything but the way that he writes is rather exquisite.  I heard him interviewed a while back and thought, 'Hmmmm'. 

I have a copy of his Children of the Days too. 

In other news, in news from Genova ... Giovanni is a friend I met long-ago via the internet.  Raised in Milan, he moved to New Zealand some years ago with his wife, and it is from there that he too writes the most marvelous things.

You can imagine, it's rare that we find ourselves in the same country at the same time.  Until this last visit he was always in Italy when I wasn't however we did catch up back in 2010, when I was at home in New Zealand.  And this time the gods of travel allowed us a small meeting.

He arrived in Genova last Sunday and we met in Piazza De Ferrari.  The antiques market was still on and it was fun to wander with him, hearing his stories of this thing and that. 

I was obviously beyond temptation having purchased the beautiful shawl.  (Actually I reached home with about 2euro in change in my pocket.  This is my traveling life, the common story of Di wandering... New Zealand to Istanbul being the most disturbingly close-call of all).

Giovanni and I lunched, we caught up on stories and then, that evening we were able to join Barbara, Donatella, Luciano, and friends of theirs, for aperitivo out in the city.  It was so much fun.  But that's Genova to me ... aka La Superba.

My airline had contacted me that afternoon and so there was the scramble as I worked to get ready to leave a day earlier than I had planned.  Gert has since expressed bemused surprise that he made that mistake while booking for me.  We never make these mistakes and, while it was a situation that made me laugh, there was so much I was leaving until that last day in the city. 

Mmmm, children, don't leave everything until the last moment.

Anyway, I left Giovanni in the city on the Monday, as he wandered there before he headed off along the exquisite Ligurian coastline.  And I gifted my wine and Monday-food to Barbara, then left.  It was over again.

And below ... a photograph I took of Giovanni as we said our goodbyes until next time we find ourselves in the same country again. 

And Then The Email Arrived ...

I know some really special people and, occassionally, we find ourselves in the same country at the same time.

Giovanni is originally from Milan but has spent many years living in New Zealand.  We've never quite managed to be in Italy at the same time however I did visit him and his family when I was home 2 years ago.

Today he caught a train to Genova and I got spend a few hours in the company of this lovely man.  We wandered the city, talking as we wandered.   And tonight we met up again and went out for aperitivo with friends here.

I was saying goodbye (for now) to Donatella and Luciano (aka Susto E Soranzio), to Barbara, as well as a hello and goodbye to two people I hadn't met before but whose company I enjoyed.

The thing that most amused me was that I thought I was leaving on Tuesday.  But no.  An email arrived, that online check-in email that arrives 24 hours before departure.  It would seem that I am leaving tomorrow ...

Probably best I found that out today.

Oh the laughter.  And then the mad attempt to buy a train ticket because, you know, the trains will be quite full as everyone heads home after a long weekend.  And in the rush, somehow, the ticket machines wouldn't take my money. 

But I was in good company.  Barbara and Giovanni made it happen ... well actually, we gave up and I bought one from the woman at the ticket counter. 

So I've packed, more or less.  And I have breakfast plans down in the old city for tomorrow.  And I have to drop off my 'Monday food supplies' because, you know, I won't be here in the  city.

Yep, it's all just one big adventure, isn't it.

That Divine Thing ...

Today, at the monthly antiques market here in Genova, I met the most marvelous man and he sold me this 'most divine thing'. 

I wasn't shopping.  I was actually accompanying Outi as she shopped however ... this happened.  This beautiful shawl that I couldn't resist and believe me, I can resist most things, but this hit me in my girly soul.

I wasn't bartering, I really didn't have the money.  Unfortunately most people assume I'm bargaining.  It used to happen in Istanbul too. The lovely bloke selling this dropped to a price that was simply superb and so yes, I'm walking to catch my plane in Milan on Tuesday ...

But no, really, the Belgian bloke is bailing me out.  Thankfully.  I broke into a sweat confessing.  I love this shawl that much though ...  and I'm not sure I captured it here as it's silky and heavy and completely luxurious.  But anyway, you get an idea.

My Genovese Workspace

It's raining this morning and so I've stayed at the apartment, with plans to meet friends later.  But even when it rains, I find this city beautiful. Reflections appear in puddles on footpaths all over the city.

I have developed a new and terrible habit.  I wake about 8am, open the door to the small balcony, climb back into bed and sleep again ... as late as 11am that first time.  It's bliss.  I'm an early-rising creature and find it easy to wake and begin a day.

Not so here.  I have become a sloth. Quite the delighted sloth.  It won't last. It's only that I'm walking all over the place and talking to so many interesting people.  And I have Donatella and Luciano's cd playing.

But staying in on a Saturday morning in Genova ... you can see why in the photograph below.  The space where I work is an easy place to be.

Thank you, Air B&B.  I can't recommend them highly enough.  My cousin, Julie, introduced me to them and we stayed in them in Verona, Croatia, Budapest, Austria, and Lake Como last summer.  You get to meet interesting locals and live in local homes. 

My bedroom/office space in this beautiful apartment, downtown Genova.

Coincidences ... lovely ones.

A few years ago, I noticed this lovely woman at her window.  Her house is out on the Ligurian coast, in a small fishing village that I love to visit. I raised my camera and asked if I might photograph her there.

She agreed, with a nod.  Then she came downstairs and we talked for a while, and I took some more photographs of her, with her permission.  She was lovely.

Last night, Barbara and I sat down at one of my favourite cafes, in Piazza Matteoti, and there was that woman ... sitting reading a newspaper at the table next door to ours.

I didn't expect her to remember me and I didn't like to interrupt her but as we were leaving, I couldn't resist.  I said Ciao, and asked if she remembered me taking her photograph.

She smiled.  She did!

It was so lovely to see her again.  So very lovely.

Genova, of course ... and my playlist.

Hmmm, which order shall I post them in ... the photograph or my favourite music playlist?

The playlist:

Alexi Murdoch - Breathe (it reminds me I must)

Fabrizio De Andre - Creuza di Ma (because it takes me back to Genova, everysingle time)

Amos Lee - Arms of a Woman (love the sound)

Ben Howard - Old Pine (just love, so much)

Brian Eno - By this River (from a movie, it haunted me)

Counting Crows - Sullivan Street (there has to be at least one, of these guys or REM)

David Gray - The One I Love (somehow this one slipped in.  It wakes me up if I'm concentrating too deeply.

LP - Into the Wild (just simply love and adore)

Marc Cohen - Ellis Island (an old favourite)

Missy Higgins - Everyone's Waiting (love and adore)

Passenger - Let Her Go (new big love)

Sarah McLachlan - Angel (old love, and it reminds me of Pippa singing it beautifully)

Van Morrison - Into the Mystic  (hunted this song down and fell for Van Morrison as a result. Loved 'The Newsroom' too)

Yo La Tengo - Green Arrow (brilliant beautiful exquisite)

Zucchero - Dune Mosse (i enjoy Zucchero)

Paul Kelly - Midnight Rain (possibly my most favourite song ever but on his cd, it opens with heavy rain.  I love songs that include heavy rain, like we used to have back in Fiordland, NZ)

So this is it for now.  There are more I need to add but it meets my needs for now.

And the photograph ... Genova, of course.

Here I am ...

Curled up on my borrowed bed in this magnificent Genovese apartment, top floor, listening to my small music playlist of absolute favourite songs ... the ones that I always play.  I should post that list one day, so you can throw your hands up in horror perhaps, but these are the ones that I listen to, over and over, making sharing an office space with me all but impossible.

Or  so I've been told.

I have lived more quietly today.  The result of one of my allergy/anxiety attacks last night - 4am before I slept.  It seems that I am one of those creatures who 'feel the fear and do it anyway'.  It's always been like that.  The desire to go versus my chicken-hearted fears.

Most amusing, probably, was flying to Istanbul when flying wasn't my favourite thing.  Moving to Istanbul alone wasn't the best thing for a chicken-hearted soul to do either, actually.  But there are many things I have done that left me wondering what I was thinking?!

Cairo was both so beautiful and so terrifying for this girl from small-town New Zealand.

Anyway ... it seems, despite being as much in denial as is possible, I have some allergy/food intolerance issues.  Some things affect my mouth, others my throat, a few my stomach and etc.  I'm thinking, after last night, that I might finally get tested because the allergies are definitely increasing and I have say, they're just not fun at 1, 2 and 3am, in a country not your own when you're alone.

And today ... I'm laughing as I write this blog post, it didn't go well at the pharmacies.  They didn't really have English, and I'm famous for not being good at other languages.  Ohdeargod ... so, I have some antihistamine drops (I think), and I'm meant to take 20 drops once a day, (I think) and some asprin too (which I'm pretty sure I don't like). Not really what I was looking for but they're in the building. 

I'm someone who thinks if the medicine is in the building it's enough.  It makes Gert crazy.

But this isn't what I meant to write of ... really.  I had a nice invitation today, to supply photographs of Genova to a Ligurian magazine here.  I love Liguria, there's no hiding that, and so I said sure. 

The bonus was getting a copy of their latest and it contained an interview (and an A4 photograph) of my first football hero.  Well, technically he's my second but as Milito left, I don't talk of him anymore. 

Oh the fickle world of Series A football.  I don't recall New Zealand rugby players doing these things, these transfers, however ... he has promised he will stay with my team next year.

How many readers will I lose for revealing the truth about who I follow in football ...

Last night, after eating pizza at my favourite pizzeria, I was wandering along Via XX Settembre and found the image that follows this post.  I had to move quickly because there were others around and I'm not sure they all saw what I saw.

But this visit to Genova, I have to  say, there has been just so much ... so many good people, so much divine food, and superb wine.  Great music.  Brilliant conversations. 

Genova has been like that ... and so much more.

It was an extraordinary day ... yesterday

I don't even know where to begin ... last night perhaps, when Alessandra organised a dinner for a few of her friends and I was invited along.  It was outstanding.  

Donatella Soranzio sang, with Luciano Susto on bass guitar, and they were sublime.  I felt so very fortunate to be there listening.  Video by Federico will follow, as it was he who packed his camera and filmed events as they unfolded but they are on youtube as Susto e Soranzo.  And you will see, it was one of those 'pinch me, I'm dreaming' moments, there at Stefano Di Bert's exquisite restaurant called Pacetti Antica Ostaria.

And Stefano ... what a host.  He brought out plate after plate of truly divine food, accompanied by the loveliest of wines ... so many divine wines that came along on that gastronomic journey.  Food and wines from both Friuli and Liguria.  Stefano, Alessandra, Federico, and Donatella are all from the Friuli region. 

1.30am saw Stefano, Barbara, and Alessandra walking me back through quiet city streets to my apartment. This morning, I have to admit that I woke, and lay very still ... checking for hangover damage.  It turns out, the story is true, there is no hangover with good wine and believe me, we had had a lot of very very good wine.

It was one of the most enjoyable evening's I've had in a long time.

Today I had appointments all over the city, ending with a Napoli pizza at my favourite pizzeria on Via Ravecca.

Actually, yesterday I also had lunch with Francesca.  'The' Francesca from Le Gramole.  We laughed often but the dish below, the Troccoli, that made us laugh most of all because I told her of New Zealand's Huhu Grubs ...

I have eaten a Huhu Grub and if you clicked on the link you will have seen why I might have found my Troccoli slightly disconcerting.

I'm too tired to write of everything, although I must add that I also had the pleasure of meeting Sibilla Iacopini.  And I'm enjoying this new apartment in another part of the city.  I'm top floor, with a small balcony and french doors that I open each morning as a way of beginning the day.

I'll take some photographs when my days stop spinning but really ... I love the spinning.

Magical Events ...

Genova is this magical place ... and already I imagine the Genovese doubting me but it happened like this.  My lovely friend, Barbara, invited me to attend Teatro Carlo Felice's ballet - Biancaneve (Snow White in English).

I went along, no idea what to expect and honestly, after the show my mind was completely blown.  I have borrowed one of the photographs from the Teatro Carlo Felice website here in Genova, hoping that nobody minds, giving full credit to the photographer Marcello Orselli.  You can see more of his work here.

The photograph I'm posting was just one of many spectacular scenes.  In it you see the Seven Dwarves leaving work.  They dance on that 'rockface' using ropes  they simply took our breath away.

Other breath-stealing scenes included the wicked witch forcing the apple into Snow White's mouth. It was brutal and yet it was dance and somehow that made it beautiful.  And the scene where the prince danced with his dead princess. 

We were all 5 years old again ... believing all that we saw.  Aching for all of the characters.

I left the theatre both exhausted and exhilarated, feeling so fortunate that I had witnessed so much beauty.  I have no more words besides telling you ... it was sublime.

And I Arrived ...

It was an epic journey to Genova this time ... 2 hours of sleep, up at 4.45am for the 5.27am tram.  There was the airport-bus, the plane, another bus and a train.  Then arriving, and shopping for essentials and aperitivo with one of my lovely friends here.

I slept so deeply last night.

Today was about drinking that first extraordinarily good cup of espresso, and wandering the streets that I love so well.  It was about catching up with Francesca .  Lunch, and perhaps a siesta and tonight, a ballet at the theatre I've wanted to visit for so long.

Tomorrow is a dinner with new friends. 

Meanwhile the sun has been shining and all around me and, without people realising, I am quietly enjoying the Genovese way of talking and greeting one another out there on the streets.

I have arrived.  Photographs to follow.

Processing ...

I've been trapped in chair here, processing a series after series of photographs over weeks ... or that's how I'm telling it. 

I finished the latest series tonight.  170 ... a most beautiful Irish/English family.  I am pleased.  I hope they are too.

Etel Adnan's book, Sitt Marie Rose, arrived in the mail today.  I photographed her while working in Berlin and wish I had read this before meeting her.  It shall be read, over days, on those trams that I ride here.

I'm off to Genova soon.  I am very much looking forward to that. 

This photograph was taken there, in Piazza De Ferrari one day ...