When I wander, there is oftentimes that unconscious thing going on ... where I ‘recognise’ something of other places I have loved or lived in.
This bend in the river, near Nervi, reminded me of visiting my Grandma and Grandad in their little cottage in Northeast Valley, back in Dunedin. But it wasn’t about the house pictured, it was about the river and the wall.
On the best visits, Grandad would dig out the old heavy wooden ladder and drop it down to the creek next to the cottage. We 4 kids would climb down and hunt for fresh-water lobsters, occasionally surprising everyone by finding one.
My Grandad wandered the world before me. Grandad George was the man who fought at Gallipoli in Turkey, on the Somme in France and out on Flanders Fields, with the Otago Mounted Rifles. I have wandered in his footsteps when life, unexpectedly, took me to those places too.
You know ... I wish everyone was still alive so we could have all these conversations I want to have with them. Mum would have loved this life of mine and I’m sure she would have visited Italy ... would have decided to stay. She could have had her place next to the sea here in Liguria.
