Missing Genova ... again

I miss Via Ravecca, the open window I work next to there, and the noise of the street below. 

I love the way life sounds lived there in the old part of the city of Genova.

I miss the smell of the farinata nearby.  And the overflow of people, their talk and their laughter, at Pizzeria Ravecca. 

I miss walking through Porta Soprana on my way to someplace nice everyday.

I miss the beautiful fountain in Piazza De Ferrari.  And I miss Palazzo Ducale.

I miss 15 celsius because I have returned to -1 celsius. 

I miss interviewing the people of Genova about their quietly remarkable lives.

I'm missing Genova.

The photograph here was taken by Dear Miss Fletcher ... who wrote, E poi siamo passate all’Antica Barberia Giacalone.

La Vita è Bella - or Meeting Mau.

Back in August, I discovered Maurizio's blog via some beautiful photographs he took of people I simply adore here in Genova.  He had titled that post Il Sogno di Francesca e Norma. 

I added his blog to my blogreader thingy and enjoyed reading his stories.  His work means he travels ... extensively.  There is no other way to describe the way so many different countries appear on his blog.  But the thing that truly fascinated me was the way that people, from all over the world, seemed to trust him to take their photographs.  This isn't an easy thing.  I was curious.

One of his bases is Genova.  Like me, he's pretty much head-over-heels in love with this city and I think it shows in the images he captures, accompanied by stories, whenever he's here.  He's Italian but speaks other languages too.

It turned out that we were going to be in Genova, at the same time, for just a couple of days.  So today was the day that we met for lunch.  But lunch Mau-style. 

This means that we went to that tiny local restaurant, so full of character that I'm surprised the building doesn't break apart from the strain of it all, and ate a most divine lunch ... served by people who truly enjoy seeing him.  Not hesitating to mock or advise him but also showing their deep affection for him.

We ate tagliolini al pesto, ravioli al tocco, cima with insalata russa and arrosto con purea.  There a glass or two of Nebbiolo as well.  A dessert was brought to the table despite us deciding we wouldn't order any.  Did I mention how much these people enjoyed seeing him?

We moved on, heading down to a gelateria he knows.  Again he was greeted so warmly and I was given more than a few small spoons of gelato to taste due to being there with Mau.  I will be returning to that place of divine gelato, again in the months ahead.  I'll post on it once I have all the details.  There was much talking, I didn't make notes ...

I was introduced to the couple who own a vege and fruit stall, and went back to them this evening to buy pumpkin and onions for my pumpkin soup.  But really, where ever this man goes in the city, people smile.  He has this idea, this belief, that life is beautiful ... and he seems gifted in making it true.

Finally he organised a photograph, one he'd taken of me over lunch, onto a usb stick and introduced me to the most superb printing shop I've never found here in Genova.  It's hidden.  So hidden.  I know this because I've been searching for one like it since first arriving here back in 2008.

So I have this large laser print of the photograph you'll find over on Mau's blog.  The one where I'm realising there's a camera pointing at me and there's no escape.  I'm the most difficult photographic subject I know. 

I popped back to see the printers tonight and had 3 prints made for Barbara.  A small series from the family photo session I did last Sunday.  The large laser prints are so veryvery affordable (less than 2 euros) that I suddenly have a way of gifting people the photographs I take of them while here.  I'm rapt.

So Mau has raced off back into the world.  I wandered out for an aperitivo with Barbara.  This city ... I do love being here.

Oh, and the photograph below. As photographers, we confessed to a mutually intense dislike of having our photographs taken however we allowed it today.

I Am Missing That City, Its People ...

Coffee at Douce in Piazza Matteotti, Genova.

Or perhaps I am generally missing good coffee.  Even the highway autogrills do good coffee in Italy.

I am missing green beans, lightly cooked.  Tomatoes from Il Bio di Soziglia.  And adding the best riccotta from Le Gramole Olioteca to that mix.  Missing Francesca and Norma too.

Then I miss the possibility of eating Ravioli fatti in casa al “tuccu” di carne at Roberto's place, Il Genovese because Tuccu is the most divine sauce ever invented ... any place here on this earth.

I miss Stefano's restaurant because there are always stunning surprises in store when you eat and drink there. 

I miss the possibility of hearing Donatella singing and Luciano play there.  I am learning to miss Donatella's fried squash flowers too.  They were divine that night she took Helen and I home and cooked for us.  

I miss Barbara and Alessandra.  I most definitely miss Stefano.  I miss Lorenzo. 

I miss the 'ciao's' that I hear in the street.  I miss Pino & Silvana, and their divine pizzas.

I miss Boccadasse and my seat up on the hill, I miss Outi, Paula and Paola.  There is Davide, Federico, and Leah, and so many others. 

I'm thinking now  ... perhaps it all adds up to the fact that I'm simply missing Genova. And forgive me if your name isn't here because I'm sure to be missing you too  :-)

Yes.

Below, a photograph of Luciano playing bass guitar (really, he is), taken at a performance he and Donatella gave recently.

Our Clients Wrote of Our Workshop

What can I write ...

I feel so extraordinarily grateful to the three women Helen and I invited on our A New Way of Seeing workshop, in Genoa, Italy.

Since then Lisa, Leah, and Laura have written of working with us in ways that have filled my wee kiwi soul to overflowing.

Leah, from Help. I Live With My Italian Mother In Law, wrote of her experience with us in an English magazine. 

Laura, from Ciao Amalfi, wrote up her experience with us over on her blog. 

Today, I'm just in from reading Lisa's account of her time with us over on her blog.  That would be Lisa, from Renovating Italy ... the Lisa who had me laughing so hard that I could barely stay standing out there on Via Porta Soprana.  She has a talent for laughter but the weekend was full of laughter, of stories and photography too.

I borrowed one of Lisa's photographs from her post about it all.  I love this particular image, taken by Silvana, wife of Pino.  Pino is the man nestled in-between Lisa, myself, and Helen ... late on that laughter-filled evening in Genova.

Silvana and Pino own the very best pizzeria in the world and I adore them.  Their pizzas too. And so it seemed entirely appropriate to be photographed together.  Silvana, after a hot and exhausting evening, decided she would be the photographer ... and no begging her to join us would change her mind. 

I have to admit, I'm looking a little rumpled at this point in the day.  We were almost home after that first workshopping day.

I would work with any of these women in a heartbeat.  They were magnificent.  All of them. 

Huge grazie mille's to Laura and Lisa, Leah and Helen. 

It was a most magnificent weekend!

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.

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.

Roberto Panizzi - the Pesto Guy, Genova

Roberto Panizzi is the president of the World Pesto Championships here in Genova and he was kind enough to allow our workshop group to photograph him making pesto.  Grazie mille to Anna, of Beautiful Liguria, for setting that up.

There Robert was, surrounded by 5 women as he demonstrated the pesto-making process, talking and inspiring us while calmly bearing the quiet storm of flashes along with the knowledge that Hanna's was also filming him.

Here he is, having photographed us, busy sending the resulting images out to all his twitter followers.

We adored him.

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.


A mozzarella snob confesses ...

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.

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.

Kim asked about me and Genova ...

Kim asked if I was in Genova yet ...

I so am.

I have this huge and uncontrollable smile on my face.  It started as I journeyed from Milan towards the mountains and Genova ... and I can't stop it.

I've been trying not to frighten anyone, with my madly happy face, as I run errands upon arrival.  I'm working on containing it within me, as a quiet bubble of joy. 

I have a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  I have an internet connection.   I have wine ...  and I'm still smiling.  It's like that.

I am back in this city I love so well.

All kinds of threats have been made if I return without completing the book this time ... and so I must.

But Kim, yes, I am back.

A Celebration ...

The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human; the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown …
Theroux

Sourced from Steve McCurry’s photography blog.

Sometimes the photographs, I take here in Genova, are a simple celebration of being back in this place that I love.  It’s not always easy living here, without language, without anything resembling huge amounts of money, without family ... but I keep coming back.  My camera loves me for it.  My photographer’s eyes appreciate it too. 

I find something of New Zealand in the sea and the hills.  I enjoy the quiet kindness of the Genovese met along the way.  These days, I am reading my way into their history.  Steven Epstein’s book covers the period between 958-1528.  Titled ... Genoa and the Genoese, it captures something of the complicated and rich history of this Italian city that so few people I know seem to know.

Hanna came with me this time and she surely fell for the city, hoping her plane might be cancelled ... just for a few days.  There was so much more she wanted to see, and do, and photograph.  I watch it happen… everyone who comes here with me has fallen under the spell of this city so far. 

It’s good to be back.

Cees Nooteboom, and a Genoa Image

Photography is a more intense way of “looking”. No photographer simply travels. He cannot allow himself the luxury of just looking around. He does not see landscapes; he sees photographs, images of reality as it might appear in a photograph.
Cees Nooteboom in 1982 in the Holland Herald, KLM’s in-flight magazine.

Karla Verdugo, Artist

Jessie Knopp also created a business card for Karla, using an entirely different font that, I felt, complimented the original artwork just so perfectly.

And Jessie doesn’t just make one version in these early stages.  She created two versions for Amedeo and three for Karla.  She is happy to work with you via the web to create what you need.  So let me know and I’ll put you in touch with her.

Jess Knopp, talented artist and daughter

My daughter has this rather stunning ability to put together a business card that captures something of who you are, or what you do ... in a way that stuns and delights me.

I asked her about creating a business card for two of the artists I met in Genova and voila, she created this as one of two options for the lovely Amedeo.

You should think about whether you need her to work her magic for your image.

Franco Fondacaro at Work, Genova

It seems entirely appropriate to post this photograph of Franco waving to me…

He was the only artist set up when I wandered by early this morning. Today is a religious holiday in Genova.  It’s the day of their patron saint, Giovanni. 

We exchanged greetings then he took me by the arm and we strolled over to the cafe for coffee together.  And just like Roberto in Lerici, we didn’t have much language in common but it was lovely to spend time with him.

I wandered on down via San Lorenzo afterwards, veering right in search of focaccia, then on into the caruggi.  About halfway into that walk, I realised I was deeply exhausted and wondered why I was taking on a stroll that involved a rather steep incline on the return ... considering that I was operating on 4 hours of sleep.

I made it back to the apartment but needed to lie down for 10 minutes.  I may have used up almost all of me and have this wicked plan to sleep tomorrow away.  We’ll see, I recover relatively quickly usually.

So anyway, in the last few hours of travel, there has been the realisation that I left my favourite foundation and perfume back in Genova. My idea was to wait until the sweat had dried before applying it.  In all honesty though, I was cleaning right up until I left and the sweat never did dry.  Then there was the man sitting in my train seat on the train to Milan, but he accepted the bad news graciously and turned to be okay.  He managed to prevent my suitcase from causing serious damage when it rolled out into the aisle.  Italian trains often have those little rooms of 6 seats on each carriage ... I suffer.

Then the airport was reached in comfort and style (as opposed to being crammed on the hot and crowded airport bus), via the Malpensa train from Milan Central.

However then came the overweight suitcase ... 36 euros.  I’m blaming the gifts.  And there was the small matter of an abandoned suitcase up near check-in that had security waiting for the police, alarming the check-in woman who had charged me for my excess baggage.  I was happy to leave the area ...

Anyway, waiting for the plane, hoping I can sleep on it. I’ll leave you with Franco, out on Via San Lorenzo, in amongst all the artwork.

Amedeo Baldovino’s Art

At dinner last night, Amedeo said I should tell him which work I liked best of his and he’ll paint me one like it.  I do adore that man but he took it a step further.  Laughing, he told me that he will be painting a studio with Di Mackey Photography into the city scene because that’s what he does so well .... he mixes reality with fantasy and imagination.

I loved the idea of that ...
Now to tell the Belgian bloke all the reasons why Genova would be such a good place to live.

Meanwhile, to Amedeo ... a long life to the visionaries and the dreamers amongst us!