On the Aperitivo Trail, Genova

As always, there were so many stories in Genova, so many I intended to write up but I arrived back in my Belgian life and there were more stories unfolding.  The end result is that a handful of stories are told and the others ... well, they just stay with me, as memories to be sifted through or written up later.

I was winding up my stay in Genova back in July when Simon flew in on that second last evening.  He had 12 hours in the city, as he was dropping his son off with his mother-in-law.  We had a choice for dinner that night - a simple dinner someplace or an aperitivo-style exploration of the city. 

Nothing new for Simon, as he knows the city well.  Paola, his lovely Genovese wife and friend of mine, owns the apartment I stay in when I'm there.  He spent a few years living there and they return when they can, from their Belgian life.

And so it was that we began with aperitivo at Cafè il Barbarossa.  They offer a lovely outdoor setting, an extensive cocktail menu, and they're only a few steps from the apartment.  He chose a cocktail and I remained boringly loyal to my beloved red wine.

We wandered over to Mentelocale Cafè.  Simon selected another cocktail while I continued with red wine.  You should know that each drink comes with a range of snacks.  It's a lovely 'other' way to have dinner.  We moved on after a while to a place that was rather more upmarket.  Their buffet selection of snacks was rather divine.

The first photograph, in the series below, was taken with Simon's phone.  No other cameras were on this particular expedition.  The cocktail you see was called the Missionary's Downfall.  Simon wisely stayed with rum-based cocktails and admitted he could see how the taste of that particular drink might have led missionaries to let themselves down some.

The second photograph was taken after my second glass of wine and is more about the humour of the moment than the amount of wine consumed.  Actually, that evening was so very warm and humid that I very sensibly matched every glass of wine with water ... more or less.  Maybe not enough but an effort was made.

We wandered down into the caruggi, looking for a particular bar somewhere off Via Canneto il Lungo but I think it was closed and so we wandered on, ending up in the piazza that tends to be the pulse of city life in the evenings ... Pizza delle Erbe.

It was there that Simon decided it was time he stepped away from the cocktails and he embarked on a more sedate exploration of red wines available.  Having complained, long and loud, over photographs he had taken of me and posted on Facebook, I saw a photo-op as Simon relaxed at this outdoor bar and there he is, at the end of this photo selection, with a facial expression I'd not seen before.  It had to be recorded for posterity ... or perhaps as payback for the horrors he had posted earlier in the evening. 

Veronica had had to chide him for a small degree of 'mean' over those postings.  Thank you, Veronica, your loyalty was appreciated.

I cannot tell you how nice it is to sit outside on warm summer's night, in a small piazza in Italy, drinking red wine and chatting while the Italians surround you with all of their conversations.  I think it's one of the things I love best but rarely do, as I'm mostly alone while there.

We ended the evening at my favourite pizzeria ... in the world. Seriously.  The most excellent pizzas can be found there and the owners are lovely.  We split a pizza, there was a little more red wine, a conversation with the pizzeria owners and voila, we were done.

Thank you for a most excellent evening spent wandering Genovese streets, Mr Litton, and to Paola who guided us when Simon was lost in the maze that is the caruggi. 

Genova

One of the things I love about Genova is the fact that mass tourism hasn't decimated her soul.

The Genovese go about their lives in a way that feels like forever and familiar .  And there is the sacred and the profane out there as you wander.  The exquisite and the run-down stand side by side.  Take a few steps and you're some place else.

There is ancient grandeur and there are the wilder streets.  Those streets that inspire caution when you consider exploring them. 

Genova is as She is.  There is no pretence.  Grandeur and grittiness co-exist.  You can love her ... or not.  She will not bow or preen for you.

I love that.

In These Days ...

I have 3 projects to work on and there's only one me ...

Can you hear the sigh in that sentence?  And I love all of the projects equally, so it's not about the one or two that are a nuisance.  It's about wanting to do all of them beautifully.

And then there's the house, and other events, and a pile of books that I'd love to read.  I caught one of those books as it slid off my desk when I sat down here this morning.  The pile is very precariously stacked.  Interwoven with papers and notes, covered in ideas of things I'd like to remember to do.

But anyway ... I made the 2.5 hour train trip to Ieper (Ypres) on Monday and met a family of 6, with 4 of the most beautifully behaved children I've ever met ... without any exaggeration.  I went allowing for the chaos that can be a family portrait session and came away stunned by those kidlets. 

Rolling across Belgium in a train has to one of my favourite things.  I love the fact I'm in the world but out of it.  If I find the right seat, then it's the perfect place to finish a book and/or nap.  I did both, passing out in the 30 celsius+ heat after the photo-shoot. 

You meet interesting people too.  I met a young guy who was studying journalism and we talked for a while.  I had been lost in my book and he heard me asking the conductor where we might be.  I was quietly worried I had missed my train-changing stop.  So I asked him about his studies and it was interesting to hear the state of journalism today, as told to him by his professors. He talked of the book he is planning.  I love that about trains, well ... and planes too, the conversations you get to have with people you've never met before.

In other news, I'm back in France in a few days.  Photographing a wedding that promises to be exquisite.  Then over to Italy for the 5-day workshop where I get to work with some lovely women in a dreamlike setting

September finds me back in Genova.  Anna, at Beautiful Liguria, is working with me on a project that is so close to my heart.   Perhaps that one will take me right through the winter.

And I have an editor for my book and an exhibition space for my photography and so ... work must be done.  Perhaps if I stop for a moment and simply organise the books and papers piled up on my desk, then my day can go forward in the best kind of way. 

Perhaps.

Anyway, I called the image below 'painting with light'.  Sometimes, for me, it's all about the attempt to capture light where I find it ...

 

Colours ...

There are two devices which can help the sculptor to judge his work: one is not to see it for a while. The other... is to look at his work through spectacles which will change its color and magnify or diminish it, so as to disguise it somehow to his eye, and make it look as though it were the work of another.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, 1590 -1680

As I work though my photo folders, putting together a collection of work for the exhibition, I began to see I have this thing about colour but it's not limited to one colour ... it seems that each place has had its own colour for me.

Genova is, for me, predominately gold/yellow/orange.  Naples was red.  And Rome was that grey/off white found in the exquisite marble sculptures.

As I recall, New Zealand was blue and green, and so vivid in a different way.  Now to 'revisit' France, Cairo and all those other places, see what colour they were ...

Meanwhile I'll leave you with one of my favourite angels in Rome, by Bernini.

In Ancient Times ...

'It is also famous as one of the few ancient cities that can now be seen in almost its original splendour, because unlike Pompeii, its burial was deep enough to ensure the upper storeys of buildings remained intact, and the hotter ash preserved wooden household objects such as beds and doors and even food.

Moreover Herculaneum was a wealthier town than Pompeii with an extraordinary density of fine houses, and far more lavish use of coloured marble cladding. The discovery in recent years of some 300 skeletons along the sea shore came as a surprise since it was known that the town itself had been largely evacuated.

Source: Wikipedia.


I found myself fascinated by the ruins of Herculaneum.  Destroyed during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius back in 79 A.D, there is still so much that is as it was then.  I was only there for a few hours but it remains as a memory of immensity ... both in time and space. 

 

Story-Tellers

Maybe I'm 'involved' in too many things ... is the thought that occurs to me as I try to organise my desk as a viable working space after Italy, on this much-cooler Sunday morning in Belgium.

I'm trying to organise all ...  there are the things I want to blog about from Genova, the photography workshop material I'm printing and organising, the Inspiration workbook material I'm preparing for the 5-day workshop in Italy, and the book on Genova I'm putting together ... and then there's everything else that interests me too. Reminders, notes, the appointments book, and and and.

To my left my bookshelves are overflowing with books read and unread but I love that state of being.  No pressure, just pure anticipation.  There was the secondhand beauty I found just before flying - Pablo Neruda, Memoirs.  And I'm still meandering through Eduardo Galeano's Children of the Days.

Both books were too heavy to take with my camera gear and laptop as hand luggage, as I acknowledged that sad lack of escalators in Italian railway stations.  A lack that has twice made me consider abandoning my luggage there at the bottom of the stairs as I looked up.

Yesterday, pre-massive night-time thunderstorm, I lay on the bed for a while and zipped through the delightful story of a wandering cat and its owners efforts to track it - titled Lost Cat.  Pure lazy luxury.

And I'm still dipping in and out of Paul Kelly's 100 chapter biography (although not the version I've linked to. No cds included in my copy and, sadly, too heavy to contemplate carrying to Genova), and the Letters of Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West  because they're the kind of books that invite dipping.  I discovered 'Portuguese Irregular Verbs' at my .75 cent secondhand book supplier (so many good books found at this price) and it's waiting there in the queue.  And finally I am reading 'TinkerBell, in the Realm of the Never Fairies with Miss 9.  It's an excuse for us to hang-out up here, in the cool of the evening, reading and chatting.  We're looking for the next big series read but will put that decision off a little longer.

I'll leave you with a story-scene from medieval Genova.

Genova And I ...

Tonight is the night I spend cleaning the apartment and packing to leave Genova.

My airline changed its usual flight times between Italy and Belgium.  I need to leave here earlier than usual but, realistically, I can't do the big clean-up-before-leaving in the humidity that is ...  It's a long journey home.  One that involves a bus, a train, another train, a plane, a bus, and a tram.  It's only 1 hour 15 minutes between airports and countries but there's the reaching the airport thing ... and the getting home too.

It becomes epic but I have my snazzy new luggage... she trails off.  That would be the bag that blew my budget upon arriving in Italy ... the replacement for the red one that had had the powerfully stinking fish juice spill on it.  Ho hum.  Nice bag.   I guess it can be an early birthday gift to myself, a thought that may help absorb the pain of paying full price and then some for luggage in an airport.

Hmmm, note to self, the pain of that experience still isn't out of my system.

But mostly this visit has been about good people.  There was Roberto, a lovely guy I met last time I was here.  He very kindly introduced me to some places in the city I hadn't explored.  And he survived my New Zealand-English.  Grazie mille, Roberto.

And there was Anna, from Beautiful Liguria. It is always, without fail, inspiring and exciting to spend time talking with her. 

And Outi, another lovely friend I made last time I was in Genova.  An inspiring woman too!

Actually, I was here to meet Diny.  A truly remarkable woman who was a pleasure to spend time with.  We worked together on both Saturday and Sunday, then had dinner on Monday and ended that evening out in Piazza De Ferrari, eating gelato and enjoying the cool breeze of the evening.  It was a real delight to spend time with her.

I was out with Barbara tonight, aperitivo after lunching with her earlier.  One day I will stun her with my fluent Italian.  Well actually, I'll probably stun myself first ... there is so much grammar to learn. 

And Lorenzo.  Some days, we met for a coffee after he closed his cafe for the day.  He came to Belgium last year, searching for the grey skies that Belgium does so well.  He introduced us to the vegetarian 'meat' products while he was over.  We love him for that.

And Stefano.  I had lunch with him back in those days when I first arrived.  It's always a pleasure to catch up with this lovely man, responsible for the Righicam website.  The site with those cameras that look out over Genova.

The humidity here has been high.  Higher than I'm used to.  Sometimes two showers per day and a complete change of clothes was the only solution.  That said, I've loved being warm ... loved watching my skin change to brown even though I haven't spent any time sunbathing.

So yes, I'm leaving on a jet plane ... but I DO know when I'll be back again.

I'm back in September, with 50 photographs selected for my book and as much text as possible.  There is a plan. 

The image that follows ... I'll write more on it once home and unpacked.  I need my notes but it's divine don't you think?

Light and Colour, Genova

I can never predict what I might find out in the streets of Genova, Italy.

Never.  It seems that all is possible.  Today the light was strong and it was hot.  Really unbelievably hot but I am adjusting to it.  Loving it even ... after the long Belgian winter that was.

I couldn't resist attempting to capture something of the artworks found in the narrow caruggi (alleyways) here in the ancient heart of Genova.

A Superb Day ...

Genoa has been nicknamed la Superba ("the Superb one") due to its glorious past and impressive landmarks. Part of the old town of Genoa was inscribed on the World Heritage List (UNESCO) in 2006 (see below). The city's rich art, music, gastronomy, architecture and history allowed it to become the 2004 European Capital of Culture. It is the birthplace of Christopher Columbus.

Sourced, Wikipedia.

But really, one can expect no less in La Superba.  It is a magnificent city that merges the everyday with a remarkable history. 

I looked up, as I was hunting down breakfast this morning ...

The Creatures on Cattedrale Di San Lorenzo

San Lorenzo's Cathedral was built to hold Saint John the Baptist's ashes ... ashes that arrived in Genova after the crusade in 1098. 

The lions that guard the entrance have been a point of fascination for me.  Today, searching for the cloister of yesterday (wrong church), I discovered the animals around the corner behind my favourite lion.

I love the way they seem to be attempting to peer round the corner ...

Arriving in Genova - May, 2013

My journey to Genova in May, despite being far too short, was as special as every other visit I've made to that exquisite Italian city located in Liguria.  But the kindness of strangers was quietly overwhelming and intensely appreciated.  Perhaps it was all more condensed .  I don't know.  It was a special visit.  Crazy busy but filled with people I want to write about in the days ahead.

I've put off writing about it in detail because I didn't want to miss out any stories.  Now ... so much time has passed, I fear I have forgotten some things.

It's time to sit awhile and remember.

I arrived via Rome and landed in Genova late afternoon.  It was raining and grey - the only grey day I had.  In the days that followed, it was summer.  The journey from Brussels had been long but this time I was staying with Francesca and her lovely family out at Arenzano.  Paola's apartment was under renovation back in the city.

So I followed the train signs out to the airport exit doors but then the signs peetered out.  I turned a few times, sure it was me who was somehow lost, before wandering back to a counter where there was man who seemed like he might be open to questions from this lost woman.

He was lovely.  He started talking of the bus, then a taxi, then walking ...discounting each idea as he went.  It's not much more than a kilometre to the train station, an easy walk normally and so he drew me a map but then looked at the rain and wasn't happy.  The situation was resolved when a friend or collegue of his called out a ciao.  He called him over to us.  This lovely young man listened to the story and before I knew it my luggage and I were in his car. 

He had un po inglese and well ... my lack of ability in other languages has created laughter all over the world.  But we talked a little.  He weaved through the streets near the airport then parked next to a footbridge that went over the railway tracks.  He unloaded my luggage and then, much to my horror, carried my heavy bag all the way to the top of the stairs.  I was so grateful and a little bit mortified.

We said our goodbyes and I made my way down to the train station. I bought my ticket. 

Flustered, tired ... who knows really, I had forgotten how trains worked in Italy.  Platforms, directions, stuff like that.  Eventually I asked at the office and another lovely Ligurian said, come with me, and so I did.  I followed her under the tracks and up onto the correct platform.

Honestly, I know how trains work there.  I use them often but it seemed that there was a brain-freeze going down and I was in its grip.  She sat with me, we talked a little.  I wished I had studied Italian.  I appreciated her unobtrusive kindess.

I arrived in Arenzano and Francesca picked me up and whisked me off to her place. 

Now ... Francesca has lovely friend called Anna Lisa.  I'm sure of the 'lovely' because Anna Lisa had offered to cook dinner for Francesca and her family that evening. 

I took a photograph or two while she whipped up a focaccia al formaggio, as per the photograph at the end of this post.  There was other food too but I was so tired by then, and I did nothing but race about madly during those 5 exquisite days in Genova, I've lost the rest of the memory of dinner.  I suspect that the warm focaccia di formaggio was so good that I have fixated on it.

I also suspect that the kindness of Ligurian strangers had overwhelmed me, filled me up, knocked me off-balance a little.

And Francesca's family ... Beppe, Cesare, and Emma.  There's so much love between them that it is truly lovely to spend time in their midst.

And so I arrived. Genova,  May 2013.

Update: if you use a reader to read my posts, sincere apologies for the series of edits.  Strong antibiotics, 3 espressos, and no sunshine or warmth ... it all messed with my mind.

And Stefano, grazie mille for the editing advice.  It was a rather grave error, falling to the 'No exceptions' category. 

Today ... and some other days too.

We shopped for our monthly supplies, Colruyt and Makro.  Later, we slipped away to our favourite secondhand shop by the airport and voila, found the beautiful orange bicycle for Miss 'Almost' 9 ... it has flowers.  It is a little early, as her birthday is actually 4th of July but it was meant for her.  We're sure.

Then I slept. 

Last night I was out with Lucy and Ruth, there was some red wine involved, much laughter and many conversations.  And then, cycling home after midnight, I learned that using my phone while riding a bike is to be avoided.  Only my finger was hurting this morning.  I was lucky.

Tomorrow I'm off to the Westhoek, really really early, to photograph a special moment in the lives of one of my favourite Belgian families.   I love this kind of photo-shoot, the kind that involves extended family.  I love attempting to capture not just the day but the emotions and connections too. 

Let's see how it goes.  Meanwhile, there was this poppy in Piedmont and I was there photographing it, just a few days ago.

It's all about details too ...

One of the things that really struck me about Diana and Micha's B&B were the details ... exquisite details.

I felt concentrated, like a kid playing in mud, using flowers and twigs for decoration.  I had light and colour.  I was that lost during those moments when I played with my camera ... lost in the light, and the details.

This is an odd photograph and yet  I think I like it.  The light struck me but perhaps I saw the mosaic first.  I don't remember but it's like this.  You can spend hours in each room, outside, and in doorways, just noticing the details, one by one.

And so, the rooms ... B&B Baur, Italy

After I had wandered outside for a while, I stepped inside.  Oh my, I could  spend weeks in some of those rooms ... walking through the early mornings and out into the evenings but writing, just writing, all day.

They're inspirational rooms but see for yourself.   And this, incidentally, is one of the rooms our workshop clients will be staying in ...

Note: I had no tripod this trip and so I made do with a ledge which was limited.  I was sherpa enough without carrying a tripod this trip.