Slowly, slowly, I’ve been winning this timid boy cat over …
Tonight, he was sitting there in the sun, on the couch. I saw the photograph of him, about the same time he saw me quietly lift the camera.
I had a split second, maybe 2, then he was gone.
I have since had to apologise to Mark, profusely …
My days here, are so different from those beautiful days back in Genova.
I miss the bars, and the lovely people who worked there, making the best coffe in the world.
I miss the noise of the city, and the quiet of the medieval centre.
I miss the musicians, and the everyday presence of ancient places. I miss passing by people whose faces look like faces painted in 400 year old paintings. I miss good pasta and sauce, pizza and walking.
I miss the Genovese.
BUT, I am learning to love hanging my laundry out on Dad's old clothes line, in the garden that smells of roses and all the other flowers he has there. And it makes me so happy to climb into my bed when thesheets smell of fresh air & sunshine.
I love the sound of the birds ... one of the only sounds as I hung out my laundry at 7am this morning.
I was always passionate about driving ... about wandering, and so I am happy to be driving again. Even if I enjoyed the kilometres I walked on Genovese footpaths, and the buses and trains. And I'm not sure how to avoid weight gain, other than via that boring path called self-discipline.
Reading. I have just finished 3 books, one after another. Reading late into the night, just as I did as a child.
My espresso machine is making me happy, I just need to go find 'the' coffee.
I love 32 celsius days (yesterday) and sitting here in the kitchen, back door open to the garden, and working.
Mmmhmmm, I called the plumber today. The bathroom tap is broken and it has leaked for days now.
Another thing to love, after a life lived in Europe, I phoned the plumber at 8.50am and he said, 'Okay, I'm doing a job just round the road, I'll come to you after it'. It was the same with the washing machine repair guy. That's quite marvelous really :-)
Here I am, just trying to find my balance again, in this smaller, quieter life that I'm living.
Buona giornata ...
Foto: these chairs, were just there, in this ancient ruin in Genova. I had my photograph taken in one, and couldn't resist the beauty of this still-life moment, Genovese-style.
A woman who imagines she is a princess might arrive back in New Zealand, after so many years spent living elsewhere and, before she does almost anything else, she fails to resist the espresso machine being sold for below cost …
And is she ashamed?
No, she is not.
(Although she tried to be …)
I made my first espresso this morning, using Lavazza coffee, and it’s all been worth it.
Breakfast has long been my Holy Moment. It’s the only meal I truly love. Finding the precise ingredients, to make it Holy, in every country has been the Thing.
I love an espresso, I love good bread for toast, and butter too. And I’ve managed it in Turkey, in Belgium, in England and Italy but I was slow here, and suffered through some terrible coffee.
Life seems quite beautiful this morning.
I wrote a post, over on Facebook, about Loneliness ...
But things have a habit of disappearing there. It's the nature of FB. Life scrolls on. Perhaps it reappears at a memory in a year, or two but I wanted to keep this post because it seemed to really strike a cord in people.
I wrote from the heart, and people responded from that place too.
It was this:
I have mostly been part of a tribe...
1 of 4 children, twice a wife, a mother, a stepmother, and a nonna too. And then I have had lovely circles of friends where ever I have lived.
'Tribes', made up of family & friends, are things that I appreciate so much, simply because I know I should never take them forgranted.
Out here, sometimes, the loneliness makes me leave the house, with my camera, and walk these ancient city streets. It has always been my way, since I was small, in New Zealand I sought out the beaches and rivers. In Istanbul, I would cross the city on foot. And anyway, out walking opens me up to seeing things I wouldn't see if I wasn't alone. It's double-edged sword perhaps.
But if I'm honest, I believe that even being part of a tribe can still leave a person feeling lonely sometimes. Loneliness is interesting. I've been trying to just let it be ... knowing there are so many lonely people in the world. In or out of relationships, surrounded by family or completely alone.
It makes me kinder. It makes me admire the older people I see, with their walking sticks and their slow shuffles, out shopping alone. I admire their courage. It makes me offer to help because I know I would appreciate it. And sometimes, like this morning, this lovely older woman and I ended up chatting ... about her sciatica.
But in Italy, in Genova, the people who perhaps understand most of all, are the barista's. I adore the ones I adore. Sometimes they save my day, after a night of bad dreams, when I wake alone in this life I am pursuing. Today, a lovely man gifted me a free espresso and gave me back my courage. It's that simple sometimes. It's that simple to be kind.
We don't talk of our loneliness. But we should. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is familiar with it.
I dislike being this honest :-) but I suspect it is needed in this world where we all prefer to seem like we're doing okay. And we are ... we are.
Buona giornata.
I drive around this tiny island and I am overwhelmed by the place, by memories of growing up in New Zealand, so many years ago, when life was so different to this European life I've spent the last 15 years living.
I am living quite a simple life here but such a good simple. There are little houses here, painted turquoise greens and blues ... just here and there, not standard but they remind me so much of the summer houses we called 'crib's', down there at the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand.
I have returned to a natural kind of life; a life I didn't even know I was missing. I swim in the sea, in the lagoon really. We might sit out there with a beer, escaping the heat, escaping gravity too. The current in the lagoon runs round the island, so you can be in the shallows and simply swim against it. It's bliss really. The reef protects us from most things.
My skin is turning a deep golden brown. The brown of childhood. The brown I had forgotten was possible. My arms, my face ...
My legs are following, much more slowly, mosquito-scarred but moving from a pale white into something slightly toasted.
The landscape is volcanic, so there are lush green peaks in the centre, odd shapes, quite beautiful, and Nature. Nature is in the ascendant here. Lush rain-fed vegetation, ants, mozzies, coconut, mango and paw paw trees. And so much more I don't know.
Driving round the island though, that's what I want to write about here but I need to try again another day.
Oh, and there are two radio stations. One plays music I love, a lot from my past, and easy-listening contemporary music too. The other is very much about local news and music. I move between them.
Meanwhile, on my bench here ...
Living in Rarotonga has, for some unknown reason, left me feeling brave and curious. After years spent avoiding raw fruit and veges, due to allergy issues, I decided to leap in and try everything here. Or almost everything ...
I have fallen madly in love with mangoes, paw paw and bananas, straight from the trees. I've abandoned my 'holy moment' breakfasts -the only meal I've ever tried to maintain no matter which country I've lived in. The toast, butter, jam, and coffee is gone.
My days now begin with a smoothie made from the ingredients you see at the start of the post.
I'll miss this ...