Unknown to the majority of the British public, The flag was "borrowed" from the Genoese Fleet. The reasoning was that the Genoese fleet was very powerful and it meant that it would deter pirates from attacking ships with the flag.
Source, wikipedia, with thanks to Alessandra for telling me of this.
One of those days when you really know that you are alive.
It began at 10am, with Shannon. She's lovely. From Oregon, from New Zealand, these last 4 years from Genova ... is how I would describe her because she doesn't really fit into any kind of everyday frame. She's remarkable.
I interviewed her, we wandered, we ate at Il Genovese ... which is one of those things you should do if visiting Genova. I continue to order their Ravioli fatti in casa al “tuccu” di carne because, to me, it is the most exquisite dish in the world. It combines so many things that I love and somehow it calls to mind memories of childhood and food that makes a soul remember what it was to be safe and loved.
Seriously, you shouldn't laugh until you have tried it. I keep meaning to photograph that particular dish but perhaps it will have to wait until next time.
Then we met with Arianna, the loveliest soul, and the student who saved me from incomprehension on a train to Arenzano, more than 2 visits ago. I had some of that delicious, really thick, Italian hot chocolate that is being served up all over the city at the moment, and we 3 talked in a mix of Italian and English.
Okay ... I didn't actually speak in Italian. It turns out that Shannon is almost fluent in Italian (she's modest) and that Arianna is almost fluent in English (she's also very modest). Me ... I was kind of hopeless but I am used to this role when it comes to languages of the countries I live in and love.
Then it was home to unpack things gathered and get ready to meet with Anna from Beautiful Liguria. She has a new website launching soon but for now she is here. If you're coming to Liguria then Anna is the person to contact for advice on everything from accommodation to what to see and do.
Then 6pm came round and I was off to meet Barbara for aperitivo but I also met Alessandra. It's been a truly excellent day here in Genova. 11.22pm finds me back at the kitchen table by the window that looks out over the carruggi I live on while here.
And photographs ... well, there was this one, found while Shannon was introducing me to some of her experience of the city.
I couldn't resist taking this photograph. The uniforms here are often quite beautiful and so varied too.
Shannon and I were doing an interview up at Spianata Castelletto, the "small castle". It's a name that refers to the old fort that used to overlook Genova as of the 10th century AD. Unfortunately it was dismantled in the late 19th century but the view up there is beautiful. It's a tranquil area, filled with older people taking in the sun and the view, while mothers and fathers bring their babies there.
As we were talking as ship's horn blasted across the city, demanding attention it seemed and so, I have a series of photographs of this massive container ship being guided into port by the 3 tug boats.
It was a good day today, photographically. A slower day perhaps. There was cleaning to do here at the apartment, mails to answer, supplies to buy in ... walks to take. And my marketing course too. My next meeting is on Wednesday.
The course is 6 weeks of learning how to create a targeted marketing campaign and I really can't speak highly enough of my coach, Karen Skidmore. I am my own worst marketing person. Photography is fine. Writing, a pleasure but marketing is one of those nightmares. I had no clue where to start.
It's a little bit like being back at university. It seems I'll never outgrow my dodgy studying techniques but they always worked out so perhaps I should relax about that.
Anyway, last photograph tonight ... I promise, but wandering along Via Dante in exceptional light, I noticed the sky and the corner of this building and found them beautiful.
Whether he is an artist or not, the photographer is a joyous sensualist, for the simple reason that the eye traffics in feelings, not in thoughts
Walker Evans
The light is everything in photography. I can walk past the same scene one thousand times or more and not see what is there when a particular light shines on it.
Today Via Dante was lit up in a particular way.
On Friday I spent some hours with Anna, from Beautiful Liguria, visiting the laboratory of Genovese confectioner Pietro Romanengo Fu Stefano.
Our tour was followed by an interview, one that opened a door to the confectioner's history, spanning some 234 years.
The details were fascinating. The machinery is only replaced if the new equipment leaves the quality of the end product uncompromised and so it was a tour of an older way of doing things. Attention to detail was everywhere.
I was offered the opportunity to taste as we wandered. The delicacy of the products startled me. I have never tasted anything like the marzipan, the pastilles, nor the chocolates, flavoured as they are, with real flowers and candied fruits.
I will write more but the pastilles below ... delicate and surprising, as they melt in your mouth, releasing the most divine liquid. 'The perfumed pastilles, known also as “ginevrine” (Genevans), have a very ancient processing where the colour and the aroma given to the sugar are absolutely natural. They can be purchased loose in 500g bags with the taste of rose, banana, Chartreuse liqueur, aniseed, peach, marasca cherry, mint and violet.'
Last Friday I found myself at one of end of Porto Antico looking back at the city of Genova. It really is rather beautiful.
On Friday, I was 12 hours out in the city ... and for 10 of those hours I was carrying my 6kg+-heavy bag of camera gear. And still, it was sublime. It was one of those dizzying days where it feels like I flew with the eagles ... perhaps.
I set out with Shannon, an American living here, and we wandered and talked. She knows this city, 2 years living here after some time spent in New Zealand. That's how she found me and my blog. She searched New Zealand and Genova.
We said goodbye only when it was time for me to meet my traveling companion off the train. It was a brisk walk through the city to Brignole train station. Home for 10 minutes, refreshed and I was off to a confectionery laboratory that has been in the hands of the same family since 1780.
A tour that astounded me was followed by an interview with the loveliest gentleman. Hours later, Anna, from Beautiful Liguria, and I walked back through the city and I had just a few minutes to change, to finally drop off that camera gear, before heading out to dinner.
What a dinner! If you find yourself in Genoa, you must try Ristorante Il Genovese because there is nothing about the experience that can cause regret. And if you do, and if you love meat and pasta, then the Ravioli fatti in casa al 'tuccu'di carne is the one that I fell entirely in love with.
The sauce is 5 hours in preparation and you can taste the time and the care taken. But everything, from the gnocchi di patate fatti in casa al pesto, the cima genovese ricetta antica con patate al forno, the brandacujun di stocca fissoe, and the latte dolice fritto, even the canestrelli ... all exquisite. And that was only what we actually ordered.
I know I read like I'm exaggerating but I was there with a Flemish Belgian, famous for being a people of few words perhaps. He loved it too. I think the secret lies in the attention the Panizza brothers pay to the details. Quality products and a love of food. It's an absolute must when you're here but remember to book.
And just as I thought the day might ending I received an email from an art gallery in NYC. They would like to represent my photography in their gallery.
So sleeping was a bit of an issue that night but I had to ... I was exhausted by the week I had just experienced. The rings under my eyes were black and maybe a container ship could park inside of them.
This is Genova for me. I go high, I go low ... but oh how I live when I am here.
One of the things I love about arriving in Genova, is catching up with the people I know. Last Tuesday I had plans meet up with Outi, an ex-photography workshop client who lives here in the city. Like me, she fell for with this place but unlike me, she managed to move here.
We met where everyone meets, on the steps of Palazzo Ducale, and immediately headed inside for coffee and much-conversation. We had months to catch up on before deciding we would set off for the port area as Outi had international provisions to buy - spices from Thailand and Africa and,being a port city, there are two supermarkets jam-packed with foods from all over the world.
Lunchtime rolled round and my idea was that lunch at Trattoria Ugo, where she hadn't yet eaten, might be a good idea. Oh ... it was a very good idea. They do things with anchovies that really need to be tasted rather than explained.
I worked through the afternoon, fighting a huge desire to nap, then met with Barbara for an aperitivo at the end of her working day. She took me into one of the old cafes here, down in the ancient part of the city, and we caught up on much over hot chocolate.
It was a talking/working kind of day. A good day spent with good people.
The photograph below ... a glimpse of one of my favourite carruggi here.
This morning began in Palazzo Ducale with Anna, Emanuela and coffee. And then, after long and interesting conversations, we went wandering and they introduced me to some of the treasures that hide here in Europe's largest surviving medieval quarter.
Every shop was a story of generations and of families. The passion for what they were doing, their willingness to allow photographs, and to answer questions, was divine.
It was 1.30pm before I remembered I hadn't actually eaten at all. Well nothing besides a small spoonful of the most marvelous whipped cream at Crema Buonafede Caffetteria. I'm being sent there for breakfast tomorrow. I have my instructions regarding my order.
I returned to the apartment, downloaded the photographs, the voice recorder too. Enjoyed some warm farinata from the shop across the alley and then it was time to go out again.
This was an interview I was absolutely looking forward to. Roberto Panizza is not only a remarkable businessman but he is a warmhearted soul who welcomed us in and sat down with us to talk for a while, despite his incredibly intense schedule.
There is the restaurant he runs with his brother, Il Genovese and this website too, should you want to order some truly excellent Italian Food. There is much much more but there's an interview. I'll share when it's done.
And now, here I am, munching on potato chips and drinking a little red wine. Exhausted but so deeply satisfied with all that I discovered and was introduced to in Genova today. This city ...
But growing up by the sea, you get an idea of the infinite surface of the world, and you grow up with a number of desires. One is to run away. And I did. The other one is for light. Light is probably the most untouchable, immaterial material of architecture. I have another obsession: fighting gravity. In the sea, everything floats.
Renzo Piano, Architect.
But really, you probably should be encouraged to read more on this rather remarkable man from Genova.
It was 15 celsius out there as I wandered just now. I usually settle down and work into the night and so there's a need for a good walk before starting.
And there are a million photo opportunities here in this ancient city called Genova. You only need to look, anywhere. The detail is incredible. Layers of history on single buildings. I think I could spend a lifetime here and still find something new everyday.
Anyway, it was reflections this afternoon.
Found, just now, down in the harbour here in Genova.
Thank you to Simon, for spotting the error in my title. Repaired now.
And then again, thank you Paola.
And Stefano. Note, I promise not to use Italian again until I am fluent :-)
I experience every emotion here in Genova. I'm sure of it.
After a terrible night, a story too long to tell, I woke tired and wondered if I could put myself back together for the day ahead but I did. Of course I did.
I was meeting Stefano, a good friend to me. He had introduced me to a rather remarkable man some time ago and I had asked if I might return and interview Mr Giovanni Grasso Fravega for my book.
It was agreed and I have just spent the most delightful couple of hours with both men, asking my questions, having them translated, and listening ... wishing, as always, that I had learned Italian by now.
Giovanni Grasso Fravego is a gifted artist, with a career that spans decades, but he is also a man with a rather impressive historical knowledge of Genova. I look forward to working with his words. I took photographs too, as he has an exhibition there in the studio he shares with Pier Canosa.
Afterwards, Stefano took me over to the top of the highest building in Genova where I was able to take photographs of the city spread out before me. It was stunning! It's another clear blue-sky day here.
Then to lunch at one of the many delightful restaurants here in the city. I don't have the name but the food was delicious. I enjoyed a pasta dish, containing a sprinkling of dried and grated unmentionable parts of tuna, preceded by a plate of fried anchovies.
Sometimes I have I no idea how to ease myself back into the world after hours spent like this however there are photographs to edit and a recorded interview to organise.
To give you a sense of today, here in Genova ... a first glimpse.
It's raining today in Genova but even the rain creates rather exquisite photographic opportunities.
When there's rain here the puddles that form on the tiled sidewalks create beautiful reflections. It seems like another world down at my feet.
I have been wandering, delighted to find that Caffè degli Specchi has reopened in my absence. I stopped in for an espresso. Wandering on, I caught up with Francesca and bought pasta while there.
It's wet and it's little cold here in the city but still beautiful.
I feel like a cat or a dog, turning this way and that, making my sleeping place comfortable before I settle down.
It's like that when I arrive here in Genova. I come without language. I usually arrive alone. And it's rare that things go smoothly for me. There's always an incident. I walk cautiously in these first days, breathing the air and loving the fact I am back, while settling into a new rhythm and way of being.
Since I was small I have had to leave. I seem to be nervous about getting too comfortable and, in doing so, rendering myself unable to leave. I like to leave. As much as I hate it and regret the fact of another journey in the hours before flying. It's an odd thing inside of me but it's always been like that and so ... I leave sometimes.
There's an exhilaration once I'm out. And it's the same whether I escape on a bike, in a car, bus or plane. It must be past life stuff, mustn't it? I've been escaping since I could first climb the gate. And my parents were actually really lovely. My childhood was normal.
I'm a chicken though. Don't mistake me for brave. I am cautious. I guess I am one of those creatures who feel the fear and do it anyway. And I love being out here. Sometimes retrospectively. Cairo was like that. I cannot tell you how glad I was to take my seat on that plane back to Belgium. Cairo was really out there for me. I was staying in a local area, no tourists. And it was a peaceful, non-threatening chaos. There was only one mean taxi driver and you get them anywhere.
My hotel was special, with padlocked chains on the fire escape upstairs, and 2 floors of apartments where the stairwell was sealed off so you couldn't walk down levels two and three. The elevator and jumping from my 5th floor balcony were the only ways down in a fire. The mosquitoes bit me and I decided to tough it out, slightly worried about the fact I was a mere kilometre from the Nile. Did this mean malaria was a possibility.
Later I found it was a possibility and I should have gone to a pharmacy however that was one of those times when I gave myself a good talking to and did nothing.
But mostly, once I'm on my way, I'm the happiest creature in the world. Although there is some tension. Obviously. I travel light financially. That has caused me some potentially interesting moments but I think I have an angel or someone who watches out for me. Maybe it's mum. There's always enough for the 10euro airport bus home.
I live simply but intensely. Tonight I had my traditional Napoli pizza for dinner, the one with anchovies ... the pizza that tells me I have really arrived. Red wine washes it down. I've only been here 24 hours but have already talked with some interesting people. Genova's like that. They all tell me that they are closed to outsiders and quite conventional meanwhile I have nothing but respect for them. I like how they are and I appreciate any kindess that comes my way. And there has been so much kindess. It means more somehow. You have to earn it.
So, the first 24 hours is done. I was out and wandering today. The rain stopped and we were gifted one of those divine deep-blue sky days that I associate with Genova. I wandered all over the city and it was 2pm before I questioned how strangely dizzy I was feeling. I hadn't eaten. Just an espresso for breakfast and a slice of focaccia that the artists on Via San Lorenzo shared with me.
I forget to eat here. Anyway, I loved the name on this sign. I was up in an ancient part of the city ... which is saying something when people have lived here for 2,000 years or more.
'When the uniqueness of a place sings to us like a melody, then we will know, at last, what it means to be home.'
Paul Gruchow.
Note: I wrote the following post back in 2013, for the Lovin Genova Blog and decided to crosspost it here tonight. By the way, the Lovin Genova Blog is well worth visiting, if you find yourself curious to know more about that ancient Ligurian city I love so well.
Genova is a city of layers, so many layers that contain so much history. It is an ancient port city, a city of traders, bankers, artists, and explorers …
But to begin at the beginning, with what struck me that first time I arrived in 2008.
There was this feeling of having arrived in a city protectively nestled, as it is, between the sea and steep hills. As a New Zealander I grew with a deep appreciation for the physical landscape and have a passion for both the sea and the mountains.
Then there were the colours of Genova. Perhaps each person experiences them differently but my over-riding impression was of a city painted in colours that ranged from pale yellow through into a deep orange. Deep green shutters, sometimes blue.
I am a photographer and I admit to being guilty of sometimes saturating the images I capture out there in the city but I defend this as an expression of the intensity of feeling I experience when I wander those city streets.
Paola, my Genovese friend, has gifted me space in her place located in the heart of the old part of the city and I have been able to return, again and again, over the years. I work at her kitchen table, first floor, located in a narrow carruggio – or small alleyway. I work next to an open window most of the time, listening to the life I hear out on the street … and there is so much life. Oftentimes I feel like I have a room in a huge house there in the city.
I hear my neighbours and the people who pass by out on the street, laughing and talking as they go about their day. There is the rattle of espresso cups as breakfast-time comes and goes, then the clink of cutlery at lunch-time. Dogs barking at one another when they meet, another suitcase rolls by, or maybe a class of school children wander past singing. I love the sound of it all.
I live with the ancient city wall almost pressed against the back of my building. The wall that was built to keep Emperor Barbarossa out as he rampaged across Europe in the 12th century.
It has to be known that the people of Genova were business people first and foremost. The saying goes … Januensis ergo mercator – or, Genoese, therefore a merchant. And in their roles as traders and explorers they were in possession of a rather magnificent shipping fleet back in 1155. Barbarossa understood he might require their assistance and left them in peace.
Today the wall still works as a defender … I think of it whenever I lean on my windowsill to get a better phone reception, and my USB modem hangs at the window too.
Each time I return, so many times since 2008, there is a sense of homecoming that surprises me. I come from New Zealand, I have lived in Istanbul, and Antwerp, and yet it is this city in Italy that has won my heart.
I suspect it is because I find everything I require, in just the right measures, in Genova. There is the geography that reminds me of New Zealand, the sense of isolation that comes from being surrounded by hills, and a history so rich, like that found in Istanbul but quieter. The Genovese culture appears to maintain a quiet dignity that I suspect so many visitors have enjoyed over the years.
When I talk to travelers, I discover much to my surprise, that Genova seems to be some kind of secret. It is passed over for the
crowded trails in Cinque Terre or for the packed streets of Venice. Meanwhile Genova retains secret pockets of that quiet stately elegance that has won the hearts of people throughout the centuries. Havens of beauty at the end of a funiculor ride or via an elevator that takes you up a hillside to a panoramic view of the city. Tiny shops on ancient streets full of the most beautiful things. Churches and cathedrals with stories woven tightly around them and architecture that spans centuries of development within a single structure.
Those who judge this city externally or too quickly are sentenced to missing the density of experiences that lie hidden in its depths. It’s not an easy city but that, perhaps, is what makes it so very rewarding. It complex and character-filled.
Gustave Flaubert adored it, Petrach wrote of it. Flemish painter, Peter Paul Rubens modeled his house here in Antwerp on palazzi in Genova. And Richard Wagner wrote to Minna Wagner, back in 1853, ‘To offer you on your birthday what I deem the greatest gift, I promise to take you on a trip to Genoa next spring …’
The greatest gift, a trip to Genoa. Richard Wagner and I surely agree.
Source: Richard Wagner quote: from the Genoa Guide, published by Sagep Turismo.
The bear, she suggests, "offers us a model of how one lives with that paradox, of public and private life, of a creative life as well as a life of obligation."
Terri Windling, extract from Following the Bear.
