Sometimes ... I just get quietly lost

…And that’s why i have to go back
to so many places
there to find myself
and constantly examine myself
with no witness but the moon
and then whistle with joy,
ambling over rocks and clods of earth,
with no task but to live,
with no family but the road.
Pablo Neruda

I found Pablo Neruda's words in my inbox, via The Quotationist, and I thought 'yes'.  Sometimes I just need 'the road' because ...

These days have been dizzy, giddy, fast-moving days.  And in recognition of the pace and insanity, I am quietly developing this habit of throwing myself back at my bed on a Sunday - to read and nap and sleep and rest because I have been tired.

I returned from Italy and stepped straight into 10+ days with the delightful Miss 7.  She had 8 of those days off school but we read a lot of Harry Potter, walked in the park, talked about interesting things and maybe we had quite some fun.

My stepdaughter arrived for a few days too.  And I was cleaning and cooking and slipping back into this life while trying not to think about the fact that my daughter and her daughter are moving countries soon. 

I'm fortunate.  Their destination is no longer that small South American village, reachable only by horseback ... that place where tarantulas and scorpions are commonplace.  And it's no longer New Zealand ... some 16,000kms away from me.

Instead, it's just next door, over in Germany.  I can do that.

Gert used his environmentally-friendly gift cheques to buy me a bicycle ... a brand new one.  The first brand new bicycle I've ever owned but that's a whole other story that needs blogging, with photographs.  I love my new bike though.

I've been putting together my book on Genova, and editing it ... because I edit.  It's not a good thing.  It may be that I'm seeking perfection ... just perfection.  So yes, I need someone to take my first draft from me, as I write, and not let me edit until the whole thing is done.  I know this thing about me but I'm not sure of the solution. 

And I have received the first draft of the story of a special wine and a family and their friends in Italy.  I can't wait to write that up and share the photographs with you.  It's one of those stories that make me smile whenever I think on it.

I have made a yoga date and hope to become a creature who rescues herself with the practice of yoga.

Paola, Simon and Matteo came to dinner on Saturday night.  It was good to sit down and catch up with them again.  They bought wine ... my beloved Banfi.  Gert cooked a pie from The Hairy Bikers Perfect Pies Cookbook.   It was lovely, although we're still experimenting with pastries here in this country that doesn't sell the New Zealand pastry I knew and loved.

On Friday, I was running all over Brussels, meeting with the most delightful people.  First stop was my accountant ... she who rescues me from the hellish complication of daring to be self-employed in Belgium.  Then on to Paola, to return her Genova keys and catch up.  And then a little further, to the inspiring New Zealand artist, wise woman, and friend, Wendy Leach.

Oh, and I sold a photograph that will be published in a book.  News to follow when that all comes to fruition.

Hmmmm, Stephanie and Catalina came to dinner last Wednesday night, and I had a tooth rebuilt on the Tuesday ... a second tooth.  I do appreciate my wonderful Belgian dentist.

There was an English church fete on Sunday with Stephanie, Catalina, Miss 7 and I ... and a phone call home to my dad because he turned 76.  And on it goes.  You see the giddy mad slide that is my life?

But I think I  must love it because nothing ever changes.  It's always kind of mad and chaotic and full of good people, and frustrations, and things slipping through my fingers, or arriving - in all their beauty - in front of me.

Anyway, all that to say that I haven't been quite so bloggy lately but I will be again ... soon.

I'm Fine, Thanks - a documentary

'To sum it up simply: the journey of making this film changed our lives forever.'

This project impressed me and so here I am sharing news of it and note, you can contribute to their Kickstarter campaign.

In introducing the project, they write that: I'm Fine, Thanks is a new, feature-length documentary about complacency. It's a collection of stories about life, the choices we all make, and the paths we ultimately decide to follow.

We examine the factors that motivate and drive our major life choices. And, most importantly, whether or not the path we follow through life - and the habits we form based on that path - are truly connected with who we really are as individuals.

This is a movie about the moment people realize the life they're living is not the life that's true to their heart... and, as a result, what they decide to do about it!

Back when ...

25+ years ago, I had this little munchkin.  It was love at first sight and I spent the next few years as her devoted slave.

Unbeknown to the baby police and those in charge of new mothers, I developed this habit of singing her to sleep.  Most especially when she was ill.  And there was a 'favourites' list ...otherwise known as the songs that got her to sleep most successfully.

She still remembers them.

I have just come downstairs, from my granddaughter's bedroom, after quietly uncurling myself from the edge of her bed. 

I remembered the routine for stopping the songs and the signs were all good.  She had slept through the songs ending, and slept on through me cautiously moving off the bed.  She slept through me leaving the room and I think we might be okay now.

It's hot here tonight.  She had an incredibly late night last night and, unsurprisingly, she complained of a headache at bedtime.  One that wouldn't, 'just wouldn't!' go away.  And wicked gran that I am, I had no painkiller in the house.  Tomorrow.  Tomorrow.

But there was something delicious about telling her of the songs I had always sung to her mum and that, shhhhhh, we probably shouldn't tell her mum but I was going to sing them to her too now.

Mull of Kintyre continues to be 'the' song that most successfully sends small children to sleep.  But you should know, it's not a routine to enter into lightly.  When you sing small children to sleep you must either stroke their forehead or walk with them in your arms while you  sing ... 

10 minutes, and a quiet amazement that I still knew all the lyrics, she was asleep and  here I am , smiling over memories of those long ago days back home in New Zealand ... back when I was just a young mum.

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. 

And I hit the ground running ...

Summer has arrived in Belgium these last few days although another huge drop in temperature has been predicted for Wednesday. 

Maybe the list of things, those things that urgently needed my attention upon my return,  is almost under control ... at one level anyway.

Now, it's back to the book, back to some long overdue photo-processing, and back to working out how to go forward with my work while juggling Miss 7 who has most of this week off.

My life is often feels like I'm organising a daily experimental fruit smoothie drink.  Some days,  I get the mix of new tastes so right.  Other days, it's a complete disaster.  I just can't resist trying to push too many different things into the mix.

Today was a disaster that left me wishing I was back in Genova again.  Out at Boccadasse, communing with this very zen Mr Pigeon.

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.