Ghosts ...

Whenever I return to Genova, I remember ... that I'm walking along roads that have been here forever.  It makes me almost sure that ghosts surely walk next to me as I wander.

Tonight I couldn't resist and wandered out with the tripod.  There was the image below, with life carrying on through my time-lapse,  creating something that almost captures this feeling I have about walking next to the ancients when I'm here.

I listen to life out there on the streets, generations of people in this place of complicated history and excellent stories.

Back in Genova ... and loving it.

Travel Ephiphany, Frances Mayes

One of those flash ephiphanies of travel, the realisation that worlds you'd love vibrantly exist outside your ignorance of them.  The vitality of many lives you know nothing about.  The breeze lifting a blue curtain in a doorway billows just the same whether you are lucky enough to observe it or not. 

Travel gives such jolts.

Frances Mayes, from A Year in the World.

Something else that makes me happy ...

Whenever I leave Genova, I go through a withdrawal as I leave the source of some truly superb coffee, found at Caffè degli Specchi.

I know there's a shift to make ... from the sublime back to the-best-I-can-find-here.

This was my answer to the spotty quality of coffee found outside of Genova.  A small machine, the most I could afford and yes, it makes me happy.

The small cup is just the perfect size.  An exquisite gift from the mother of my first husband, given to me when she came over and spent a couple of weeks with us last summer.  Thank you, Valda :-)

A Recipe for Dreaming

The streets in Genova pull me out into them ... I can spend hours walking there, lost in the now.  I am missing those days where images came in through my camera lens as a deluge of colours and textures.

In New Zealand I was the kid and later, the woman, who disappeared constantly ... on my bike or in the car, with my dog, I was off, in search of a place to dream.  Rivers, lakes, the beach or, more simply, a school field.

In Genova I find that space more easily in a cityscape than anyplace else I've lived so far.  It used to be Nature, now it seems  that this remarkable old Italian city can soothe my soul.

The Farinata, Genova

Just across the alley from the place where I write and work, while in Genova, is this tiny shop that sells the most delicious farinata, pies and Genovese snacks.

Some days, the scent of the food being cooked down in the wood-fired oven there, almost drives me out of my mind.

I was on my way back from another journey through the caruggi with my camera and voila, the sun created this image ...

Often, if you want to use your phone, you need to lean on the windowsill or step out into the street.  The gate of the massive city wall can be seen on the right side of the photograph.  It blocks some technology ... my usb modem has hang, on the end of the cable, up on the window. 

Leaving again ...

This morning, I set the alarm for 6.15am, giving me time to clean the apartment before leaving ... two loads of laundry to do.

I woke at 5.20am and lay thinking how unfair it was, knowing there was no way to sleep again.

I showered, put the first load of laundry through, and packed.  I began mopping floors and then voila, almost 8am, and I needed breakfast.

I sat at an outside table at Caffe Degli Specchi, with a cappuccino and brioche, realising that today was the day of leaving Genova ... again.

And so I walked, through the city's centro storico  ... walked until just after 8.30am. The air is a soft 17 degrees celsius, the sun is out and, as always, all around me was the quiet hum of this city I love.

'Ciao!' is everywhere.  It makes me smile.  People arrive in the cafes, pass each other in the street, arrive at work ... 'Ciao'.

I'll miss that.

Someone has written a long story on the footpaths here.  Beautiful Liguria has the story on Facebook. I didn't have my camera but I stopped this young guy and asked what it was about.  Apparently, it's something to do with WWII.  It's neatly written and seemed like another of those surprises that Genova presents to her people.  It happened in the night I think.

Anna, from the Beautiful Liguria website, let me know about the story today: 'It is a story of love between a Jewish lady and a Russian guy in world war II.'

Laundry is already out and hanging across via Ravecca.  My kitchen window is open and, here I am, this New Zealander who simply loves those times when she comes stay awhile in this private, elegant, chaotic, sometimes dirty, exquisite, secretive, ancient, post-modern city nestled between the hills and sea.

The question is ...

I haven't known if my moods were flucuating on their own, or whether it was the fault of the city.

Today, I decided that it's mostly the fault of Genova ... aka La Superba.

The light pulled me outside again.  The morning light in the caruggi has been so good these last two days.  And there was 'treasure' to be found everywhere.

And then it's about the people too.  I stopped at Caffe Degli Specchi for coffee, then wandered down into the narrow alleyways in the ancient part of the city. 

The light, the light! ... she muttered.

Then, just to add to a kind of surreal heightening of the senses, I heard a huge number of children singing.  I followed the sound and discovered some kind of mixed-age choir performing on the steps of the San Lorenzo cathedral

I passed nuns, chatting as they wandered along the street, and I stopped in at a fishmongers to photograph my beloved Anchovies ... seeing the art of them rather than well ... dead fish.

There's more but here is one of today's photographs. Taken on via Canetto il Lungo, I caught morning shoppers at one of the vegetable shops, and couldn't resist ...

Caffè degli Specchi, Genova

This warm and welcoming cafe has become my favourite place to stop for a breakfast coffee, here in Genova.

Caffè degli Specchi, or the Cafe of Mirrors, is like so many of the cafes here in the city, a hub of activity.  The Genovese call in on their way someplace else, select a pastry, and order their cappuccino or espresso.  Some drink standing at the bar but I love to sit outside and watch the world pass me by.  The sandwiches make a rather nice lunch too.

Jimmy, pictured below, is responsible for the best cofee I have had in a long time.  He greets customers as they arrive and switches to English for those who, like me, are liguistically impaired.  Their aperitivo, later in the day, is also rather special.

Located at Salita Pollaiuoli 43, it's not far from Palazzo Ducale and is a must-visit kind of cafe.

 

There are days, here in Italy ...

Last night, I woke just before 4am ... in time to feel an earthquake shudder through the city here.

We were fortunate, far enough from the centre that no damage was done here in Genova.  I thought it was a 3 or 4 magnitude quake.  Of course, I did get up and go find my wallet, my glasses, warm clothes and my camera gear and put it all by the bed in case the next one was stronger.

But I slept. I have experienced some big quakes in New Zealand.

Today the rain came.  And there was this point where I longed to be home, in a place known to me, and so I wandered into an ancient church and sat quietly, listening as two priests recited something in Italian.  Perhaps it was the rosary service ... but I am guessing.

And now here I am, back beside the open window, working at the kitchen table here in Genova.

 

 

A mozzarella snob writes ...

It was bad enough when I became particular about my wine, and realised that I preferred Italian, French and Spanish wines over the wine of any other countries.

I am a woman of limited income ... I can't afford to be particular, not really, however it happens.

Next came the problem of good coffee.  Italian espresso and cappuccino ruined me.  I returned to Belgium and ended up buying a Nespresso machine, for the times between visits to Genova.

This time, I was introduced to mozzarella di bufala campana made by Casa Madaio. 

It is so good! 

Francesca and Norma sell it down in Le Gramole ... if in Genova, I cannot recommend trying it highly enough.

As per the photograph, I put some of the mozzarella on focaccia, with lettuce and tomato.  I took the photograph but really, I was desperate to eat it. 

None of these are paid advertisements ... it's just me writing of the things that I love and find.  And this particular small feast is so easy to create for yourself if passing through Genova.  You don't need a kitchen but the mozzarella ... it's truly delicious.

A Short Walk in Genova ...

Really, it was just meant to be a very short walk through the city, with a stop for coffee at my favourite cafe, Caffè degli specchi - on Salita Pollaivoli 43/R, then back to work on the book ...

That was THE PLAN.

3 hours later, and I returned home, having met the most interesting Genovese along the way.  I'll write more on them in other posts but it was delightful.

I talked with the man who imports beautiful furniture from India, goods that have been made ethically, both in terms of labour and wood, and sells them here at his shop - Safarà.  You can visit his website here.

I chatted with a designer creating the most exquisite clothes.

I bought my pesto and gnocchi from the women who make the best in the world ... or so says I, this ignorant straniero.

Then down to Bio Soziglia, in Macelli di Sozigli,a for a bio lettuce and 2 tomatoes ... I also popped in at Le Gramole Olioteca while I was down there and bought the most exquisite mozzarella.  I asked for instruction on how to look after it, mostly because I felt slightly intimidated by the quality of it ...  Francesca was kind and explained.  And I was right ask, I didn't know that the cheese can taste better if served at room temperature, nor how long I could keep it for after opening it.

And on back up the hill, for my focaccia from the forno on via Ravecca.  The focaccia is good enough to walk a distance for.

A ciao to Lorenzo at cibi e libri and home ... to eat some of the food I had hunted-gathered. 

A good day, and now ... the book.

Piedmont

On Saturday, I hopped on a train, heading for parts unknown to me ...

Stefano picked me up at Novi and then I arrived, on a small patch of paradise, in the Italian countryside.  Before any of my more cynical friends roll their eyes over my casual use of the word 'paradise', I will explain. 

In New Zealand, I was a creature who loved nature.  I didn't need wilderness, I just enjoyed the sky doing its thing, seeing healthy plants, walking my dogs in school fields, along beaches or river edges.  It was a recipe for dreaming.

And I have always loved the scent the nature, especially in Spring, when plants seem to celebrate their winter survival and fill the air with stunning scents.

In Piedmont, Italy, the air, without exaggeration, seemed to be constantly scented by some delicate flower.  Acacia I suspect but I don't know enough about the beautiful plant, I photographed, to be sure.  Does anyone know what the flowering 'tree' at the end of this post is?  Or what the gentle, jasmine-like scent might have been?

Update: Stefano let me know the name ... it is Robinia pseudoacacia or False Acacia.

I rested, in a way that I haven't rested in a long time.  I watched the clouds put on a small show and I photographed so many of the plants as I wandered the grounds.

But that aside, I met excellent people. On Saturday evening, friends of Stefano and Miriam gathered and the Genovese humour made me laugh.  It's a wicked humour but gently wicked.  And I tried a range of Genovese foods, out there in the Piedmont countryside ... Cima stood out as a new favourite.   I'll write of it another day but Miriam's mother made it and it was delicious.

And wine ... the wine I tasted, it came from the area and was unlike any I had tasted before but in a good way.

Yes, let me say quietly ... I had a most marvellous time.  Grazie mille, Stefano and Miriam.