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 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.

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.

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.

More rain in Genoa ...November, 2011

Just after 3am, I woke to a noise that sounded remarkably like a big building collapsing.  The boom of it echoed through the caruggi, the narrow alleyways here.

I lay there, not really wanting to think about what it might have been.  Soon after, it happened again.  Thunder?  I got up to look and discovered yes, thunder, lightning and heavy rain.  I went back to bed hoping that the flash floods of last week had cleared streams and pathways so that this torrential rain might cause less problems ... then realised it may still be a case of a lot of water cascading down from the hills above the city, overflowing streams and streets ... and I hoped not. 

I lay there, listening, hoping that this was more about the sound and the fury of a storm and less about many mm’s of rain in a short period of time.

5am, I woke up to the crashing of thunder and wondered if it was the same storm or a new one. 
6.50am, I gave in and got up.  The storm continues and is incredibly noisy.  Perhaps it is trapped between the high hills of Genova and the sea.  It’s not going away.

I remembered Cinque Terre were concerned about this next lot of heavy rain, I don’t know if Genova needs to be too but it doesn’t seem like the best kind of weather for a city so recently hit by serious flooding.

Genova’s Righicam gives you a peek in at the weather and the weather forecast it links to tells me that there is a 100% chance of rain until 11am, easing to a 90% chance of light rain from about 5pm.

So, today one might be sure in the knowledge that it’s going to rain.  Reassuringly ... surprisingly, I can hear people in the alley below.  Hardy souls out with umbrellas on their way to work I guess. It’s still dark, except for those moments when lightning fills the sky.

Kate, an American who has been living in Cinque Terre for years, posted an email she initially began writing for friends and family ... after realising they seemed to have no idea of how bad things are here in Italy.  So many Americans have wandered through, and fallen in love, with Cinque Terre that she and other American bloggers living in the area were disappointed by the lack of coverage the devastation in their area is getting.  They’re encouraging donations to Red Cross

I have to admit to being worried if Cinque Terre is receiving the rain we’ve been having here in Genova these last few hours, and yet I don’t want to be alarmist.  This isn’t my country and it’s not my landscape.  Unlike the corners of New Zealand I lived in, I don’t know the area well enough to understand whether it can cope with the rainfall we’re having right now.  I guess it’s just a matter of waiting and seeing, hoping that those in authority here in the city get the warnings out this time and no more lives are lost because the 10-20% of Genova that is down low or situated in the flat places may be taking a hammering now.

I took this photograph down at the ruin of the ancient temple yesterday.

The Passion of Artemisia, by Susan Vreeland

We’ve been lucky, I said.  We’ve been able to live by what we love.  And to live painting, as we have, wherever we have, is to live passion and imagination and connection and adoration, all the best of life - to be more alive than the rest.
Extracted from The Passion of Artemisia, by Susan Vreeland.

Genoa, in Reflection

I have loved the world in reflections since those days when I was a small child traveling to my Nana and Grandad’s house in Invercargill.

The swampy creek that ran alongside State Highway 1 over near Berwick was almost always a place of perfect reflections.  No one realised probably but I was contemplating that world so perfectly reflected, wondering if it might be another world, a parallel world perhaps, a magical world.

These days, I have discovered I can go some way to photographing those worlds reflected in puddles.  And I love it.  The rain stopped for a while today, the sun came out and voila, there we all were, out on the beautiful streets of this city.

So ... here’s a little of the beauty I find in Genova, in reflection.