Do the work and wait ……… wait ……… for the money

I read this, from the Independant (which I got from Twitter or Facebook or something – I’m sorry, I forget now).

Interns, from what I can understand can expect no payment for any work they do. It is supposed to be treated as ‘work experience’. The problem here is that it rarely leads to a full-time job. Instead, Interns go from one ‘unpaid job’ to another.

It will surely become a problem given the current crisis. With no hope of securing a full-time job – why bother?

Which then leads to unhappiness. Which, in turn leads to restlessness. And then, when there are enough unhappy, restless young people, something is bound to happen, isn’t it?

However, the really damning bit (for me) comes towards the end of the piece, namely:

But it seems that even people hired by the magazine cannot count on being paid. The Independent spoke to one person who was recruited this summer by Flash Art magazine without pay on a two-month trial basis. After a successful trial he continued working but was told there was no money to pay him a month later.

“Of course it’s immoral,” he said. “If they haven’t got the money to pay the staff they need, then they shouldn’t be in operation. But it’s hardly the only company doing this sort of thing.”

The Flash Art controversy followed the magazine’s recent call for new interns for eight to 10-month periods – even though using someone as an intern for more than six months is illegal in Italy.

I have known of other people who haven’t been paid – either for a very long time or at all. Worse still, if you’re on some sort of term contract. I cross my fingers that I didn’t have too much problem getting my money when I was teaching (although there was one, how should I say, ‘near miss’).

Part of the reason it’s like this is the Italian way of thinking. Mummy and Daddy can always take care of you, it seems. And, because Italians have the highest savings rate in Europe (maybe the world?), it is (I guess) assumed you have plenty of savings to tide you over.

I’m sure I would have a much stronger opinion about it if it had ever happened to me but it is wrong, isn’t it? I mean, in a civilised country within the European Union, how can this possibly be right?

It’s a sign of a wider problem. That of not really giving a shit about anyone else [that’s not either family or important to you].

And things that I do, as a Brit, sometimes get misconstrued by Italians. I remember somebody who got a ‘job’ through someone else. They thought it would be a really nice idea to take their new boss to lunch – if the guy were in the area. But the friend who had done the recommendation became something akin to a Tasmanian Devil and the vitriol and hatred that spat from a (normally) very nice, pleasant, Italian woman was more than a little shocking. For her it was this person ‘going behind her back’.

She now lives in the UK. I wonder how she gets on over there – where, to be honest, this kind of situation is not something to be bothered about.

We don’t all have some ulterior motive other than ‘to be nice and respectful’. Here that does not always seem to be the case. Not giving a shit about people seems to be the norm – and it does annoy me a bit.

Some guys doing an eating tour of Italy in an Ape

Eating is a bit of a pastime here. And so it seems only right that if you’re going to tour anywhere, with the main purpose of eating stuff, it should be in Italy.

Of course, you could do it in style or ……………….. you could do it in an Ape. This is a teeny 3-wheel, moped-engined ‘vehicle’. Of course, to do a ‘tour’ in an Ape is crazy but, amazingly, it’s being done.

I know this because of the following email. Follow them through their trip (of course, they’re only going up one side of Italy – so missing out on half of Italy’s good food :-) )

Hi,

I came across your page and thought you might be interested in writing about two brothers who are currently on a food road trip through Italy.

They will be constantly documenting their journey, so will be able to supply you with daily info/images/videos.

Please feel free to write about this journey, embed our videos/images and share it with your friends.

Please check out all the information below and contact me if you would like to know anything else.

Thanks,

Jess

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Travel Dates: 09/10/11 – 04/11/11

3 days in Piedmont/Lombardia – other odd things

There are things that didn’t really fit into the other posts.

1. The Alps. On our way there, on Saturday, we went via the motorway. It is noticeable here, that motorway lanes are much narrower than in the UK. As a result, the trucks sometimes have difficulty staying in lane. I am amazed that there aren’t more accidents. But that’s not really what I want to talk about.

The river Po runs across the top of Italy from the left to the right. It’s an important river with important cities and towns on the way. It has a huge, flat, wide area around it – and I mean totally flat and very, very wide. I don’t know whether it is a flood plain – but it’s certainly plain.

However, surrounding it on both sides (more or less) is hilly or mountainous territory. To the North are the Alps. From Milan we are heading South-West to Turin. In my head, because Turin seems closer to the Alps, we should be heading North – but we’re not. And yet, as we drive along the motorway, the Alps are always there, to our right and, as we approach Turin, the Alps curve in front of us, heading South.

It is quite beautiful, really. Some mountains already had snow on them. There is a peak, directly in front of us, behind Turin, that is taller than its surrounding mountains and very pointy. Of course, Turin Airport is one of the main airports to come to if you are going skiing in winter.

2. The hills to the East of Turin. Is where we stayed. Mountains are beautiful – at a distance. Hills, for me, however, are wonderful close up. It reminds me a little of Herefordshire. Except there are more of them and they tend to be higher. Oh, yes, and Italians built towns on the top. On the Saturday afternoon, on our way to the Abbey, we passed and stopped in some of the hill-top towns. It always seems a peculiar, Italian thing. Some are pretty. Some seem busy with shops and restaurants. Some are as dead as a doornail. Nearly always the road is as twisty as hell and sometimes, very steep.

In these hills and valleys, there are a lot of little woods and forests. A LOT of trees. I often feel like I want to stop and take a walk – but you need the dogs, really, for it to be really interesting.

3. Agriculture. On our way back to Milan on the Monday, we drove through more of the Po valley. I noticed two things. a) They don’t do hedges here. I miss hedges. I like the way hedges make things more interesting. I suppose they didn’t have the ‘enclosure’ thing we had in the UK. Not only are there no hedges but there are few walls either. And b), there are fields that seem to be ‘dug out’ or sunken. This is, probably, because this is, according to F, a great rice-growing area. As I said to him, I was never told, at school, that Italy grew rice. From my school days I would have ignorantly supposed that only Japan and China grew rice and that all the world’s rice came from them. The downside to producing rice would be mosquitoes in summer.

In general, it was a very agricultural area. I’m guessing that besides rice, a lot of wheat (for pasta and bread) is also grown here. But there are also lots of groups of trees (woods and forests). I wouldn’t say the Po valley is really pretty but it’s quite nice.

I still miss the hedges.

4. Driving. I do all the driving. F doesn’t really like driving very much. He is also a crap passenger, getting quite nervous, quite often. However, I was grateful that, one time, as I turned from one small lane to another small road, he reminded me that I am supposed to drive on the right. You’d think, after all these years and the many kilometres that I have driven, I wouldn’t still be driving on the left (but it only happens on small roads that are hardly big enough for cars to pass, thank goodness).

5. Cappuccino drinking. As everyone should know, one should NOT drink cappuccino after about 10.30 or 11 a.m. This is a shame because cappuccino is nice. If I am with people, I drink macchiato – espresso with a dash of milk foam so that I have some milk (otherwise, I have to have about 6 sugars). The one thing I love F for (amongst many things) is the fact that he will have a cappuccino at any time of the day and, so, I can join him. Really it’s because he doesn’t like espresso that much and always has it with water (cold) or milk (which he doesn’t drink and doesn’t really like apart from with espresso – he IS a bit strange, I suppose).

That’s all I can think of right now.

p.s. 6. Ladies on the road. I use the term ‘ladies’ advisedly. We would be driving along a fairly main road in the country and then, at the side of the road, sitting in a folding chair, apparently sunning herself, would be a lady. She would, invariably, have long hair and be dressed as if she were just going to, or returning from, a disco. Her skirt would be short and her top would leave a lot exposed. Sometimes, there would be a lady each side of the road.

It’s a part of Italy that I’ve never quite got used to. Moreover, my main thought was – ‘I wonder what they do in the winter?’

I only saw one car ‘driving away’ from one of these ladies. It sped away as if it didn’t want to be caught by me. I wonder why?

3 days in Piedmont/Lombardia – the things we ate

When we arrived at ViaVai, there was some cake in the room. Home-made, chocolate cake. Very nice. It was part of the deal as this was via Groupon.

Later that evening there was an aperitivo. There was red wine and two types of tart (all home-made and very, very nice). As usual with these things, people kind of stood around not saying much. Francesca, the owner of the B&B came in and chatted to everyone. Some people had tried to book the fish restaurant in the lower town that Francesca had recommended – but it was fully booked. We knew that already because we, too, had tried to book it.

She tried to use her ‘influence’ to get it for this one couple (as they were leaving in the morning) but ultimately failed.

She had, previously, suggested restaurants to us. We chose the ones we wanted and tried to book that afternoon. As I said, the fish restaurant was fully booked (so we booked it for the next night – Sunday) and, instead booked the Cascina Rosengana, in a little place called Cocconato.. I really like the name ‘Cocconato’ – I don’t know why.

Unfortunately, it was a 20 minute drive from the B&B. Fortunately, the food and service were, as expected, fantastic. All the produce is grown by them or by local farmers and everything is hand-made.

To start, we had some salami. One was normal, cured salami and the other was boiled. I don’t think I have ever had boiled salami before. It was wonderful. Then there was some cheese with some sort of jam, and then, something else (I’m sorry, my memory is fading a bit). Anyway, it was all delicious.

We had chosen red wine (which, although F doesn’t really drink very much, he insisted on) – Barbera. They offered a choice of two – ordinary and superior. F decided we should have superior. It was lovely. He drank his with water in it, which is what he often does, especially with red.

Then we had a choice of primi. One was gnocci and the other was ravioli. We chose one of each to share. First they brought the ravioli. This was very small ravioli, home-made, with meat and simply done in butter and sage. The taste was amazing. The sage was so strong. We finished a dish that, to be honest, seemed a portion for two. The gnocci was next with a ragù sauce. I have to be honest, gnocci is not my favourite thing. This was quite nice and, again, a portion that was, surely, too big for one person. We didn’t finish this.

Next we had a choice of brasata done in Barolo (red wine) and vegetables or chicken. F decided he wouldn’t have anything except vegetables. I had the brasata. It was fabulous. I made F try the gravy as it was really strong – also, unfortunately, full of garlic. The vegetables (carrots and potatoes) would have very easily served 4 people. They had brought extra because F wasn’t having the main course. Needless to say, we didn’t finish the veg (although I did finish all the meat :-) ).

For the sweet they brought us a small portion of each type. There were 4 different sweets. I’m afraid I am unable to remember what they were but they had a chocolate mousey thing that was really lovely.

We had coffee (from a moka).

We bought some stuff in the shop (some of the wine, some bottled beer and I bought some mostardo because I love that). The bill for the meal was between €50-60 which was what we would pay for one person for a similar meal in Milan!

I recommend this place. And the service was wonderful, the girl being really nice and giving exceptional service.

Breakfast at Vaivia was very nice. Do-your-own toast, a cake, jams and real butter. The coffee was like a nespresso thing. The only drawback is that, for me, it was not really enough. Normally I have the equivalent of 2 large cappuccinos in the morning. Still, very nice all the same.

Therefore, we didn’t have lunch, just a couple of small pastries in Turin. Neither of us was hungry.

Later that evening we went to the fish restaurant in the lower part of Caslaborgone.

It was called Circolo del mare. The only thing to tell you it was a restaurant was its symbol on the door. Other than that, it looked like someone’s house.

We walked in. It was two largish rooms, the walls painted in a rag-rolled way, nets and similar fishy type things hanging on the wall. At first it seemed like we were the only people there. We were given a table in the other room – and as we went round we saw that Francesca, her husband and their three daughters were the other customers for the night! F saw that they had Lighea wine on the shelves so, obviously, we had to have that. For antipasto I had anchovies. They were a bit too salty for me but quite nice. I can’t remember what F had – it was seafood salad or something.

Next we had spaghetti con vongole (clams). We had one portion between the two of us which was a good thing as the portion that came fed the two of us very adequately! This was delicious. One of my favourite seafood dishes with pasta.

For the main course, I had rombo (turbot) with capers, olives and tomatoes and F had branzino (sea bass) with, more or less, the same. We shared half and half. It was lovely. For desert, we had chocolate cake and then a digestivo. In all, the meal came to about €50. We also had to join their ‘club’ – but that was for free (I think).

The service was great but they closed up the moment we left (Francesca and her family had left about half way through our meal), which was about 10.30 p.m.

The next day we had the breakfast and then packed and set off for Milan but avoiding the motorway, we ended up in Vigevano for lunch. Although we wouldn’t normally have had lunch, a) it was a lovely day and we could eat outside, b) we could eat in the main square which was truly beautiful and c) if we didn’t eat at lunchtime then we would be starving later – and I had a lesson and stuff.

There were two or three café/restaurant type places in the square but only one of them was really busy. We picked that one, obviously. As it would be mostly locals, it MUST be the right choice.

And it was. We stopped at Il Re di Napoli (the King of Naples and the website I’ve directed to you shows part of the square as well!).

I don’t really like sausages much but, for some reason, I really fancied their Naples Sausages – so that’s what I had. F had seafood salad. The bread (because F asked) was made by them from the same dough that they used for pizza and it was great.

We had some white wine too. The sausages came with what seemed boiled cabbage. But it was really, really nice. We didn’t have sweet but I did have a coffee. The total came to just over €30. We also sat outside under the umbrellas and it was a nice way to spend our anniversary.

And, so, there you are – our feasting over our weekend. All very scrummy.

3 days in Piedmont/Lombardia – the things we did

We went on Saturday. We were late in the end, of course. We arrived at the Viavai Bed and Breakfast. We were shown to our rooms. The lady, Francesca was so sweet and the place was an absolute delight. I would definitely go there again. It’s about half an hour from Turin in the old part (read hill-top town) of Casalborgone.

For the afternoon, we went for a drive around the area, finishing at the Abbazia di Santa Maria di Vezzolano, which was rather a pleasant surprise.

I particularly like the frescoes and the frieze at the entrance (which, I hope, is pictured below – but not my picture). It’s worth a visit and will probably take you about an hour to walk round, at the most. But it is lovely.

We had a coffee at the coffee shop in the car park. It was just like one of those places in the UK at a castle or something – run by volunteers with home-made cakes and things. Except, here, was local wine. The guy serving looked like he was two steps away from his grave but he was very nice. One of the things I like about F is that he drinks cappuccino at any time of the day.

We sat outside on the wooden terrace. We had jackets but it was quite warm in the sun. We went back to the B&B and got ready to go out. Before we went, we had a little walk around lower CasalBorgone and upper Casalborgone. The upper part being the original medieval town and the lower part a later addition, as is normal here. But what a nice place. The lower part had the shops and the restaurants. Quite pretty. Not somewhere I’d stop if passing through but worth a look if you’re staying there. The upper town was medieval and, apart from houses, had nothing in the way of shops or restaurants – but pretty nonetheless. Then we got in the car to drive to the restaurant. The food part comes in another post.

The next day, F had thought it would be nice to go to the Chocolate Festival at a place called None, pronounced nonay and not nun.

F had looked at the site and said it had stalls along the streets.

We arrived and found it was true – there were stalls along the streets – selling all manner of items, as any normal market! The chocolate event was in one (not so big) marquee. And mostly it was full of shops from Turin and nearby towns selling, unsurprisingly, chocolate! We got to taste some and bought some things including, in my case, a couple of bottles of chocolate liqueur.

But we were a bit disappointed. I expected some exhibitions and some history of chocolate or something, rather than just stalls selling the stuff – however nice to eat they were.

Ah well, onwards and upwards. I had already said that I really wanted to go to Turin as I had only been there once (when I went to look at a flat for V when he went there for the Olympics) and, although it filled me with bitter-sweet memories (for his stay in Turin is what really started the end of V and I), I wanted to erase those and also see something of the city which, apart from a big square in the middle, I couldn’t really remember.

Driving in along the wide boulevards, it seemed more like Paris than northern Italy. It really looked quite an elegant place – and I wasn’t to be disappointed.

F had been there before (as part of work) so we parked right in the centre. We went, first, to a shop that he knows because the guys that run it are customers of his company. In fact, he was, until this year, responsible for the sales to them (they used to ask for him). We had a bit of a chat. They were very nice.

Then F wanted to go to the Museum of Cinema which is in the Mole Antonelliana – some tall tower thing that, apparently, is one of the main symbols of Turin. Sometimes I feel that I have learnt nothing whilst here, in Italy.

The queue for the trip to the tower and the museum was over 1-hour-wait long. But I noticed that there was another entrance which said Museum and there was nobody. I suggested that we ask the guy controlling how many people went through at a time. F didn’t seem to want to do it but I knew how much he wanted to go into the museum and so I went and asked.

Yes, we could go to the museum only and yes, we could use the other entrance and yes, there was no queue. Result!

I cannot adequately describe how wonderful this museum is. I would, in fact, recommend it to anyone coming to the northern part of Italy as a really good place to go – particularly if it is raining (which it wasn’t). Stunning, magical, interesting, exciting, informative and very, very interactive are some of the words that might help to describe the experience.

It lacks only one thing – a clear way of going round it so as not to miss anything. Lots of buttons to press to see how things work, lots of film clips (mostly dubbed into Italian) but truly wonderful. We spent a few hours there but I could go back and spend all day there. For an Italian Museum, it was truly the best I’ve seen.

I could spend longer in Turin and, I’ve no doubt, we shall go again. Quite a beautiful city. The feel is different from Milan. Surprisingly (well, surprisingly for me as I always think of it as the Detroit of Italy) it was elegant, chic and beautiful. More so than Milan although another city that does not fit your stereotypical thought of an Italy city. Florence this ain’t. But, in it’s own terms, possibly more interesting. Maybe even more than Milan (and that’s saying something as I love Milan).

We went back to Vaivia and went for our meal (see, probably, next post).

Sunday dawned bright and clear (as Saturday had been). We left the B&B and decided to drive back slowly, avoiding the motorway. Our first destination was Casale Monferrato. We had no idea what it would be like but it meant that the navigator would avoid the motorway.

We stopped in Casale Monferrato. It was OK but nothing much. I’m sure there were things we might have missed but the day was nice and we sat outside for a coffee.

Our next destination was Vigevano in Lombardia. A colleague at work had told me it was nice – but that’s not why we went. We only went because it was on the way home.

We parked and walked towards the main square. We saw the facade of the church at the end of the sqaure. It looked nice but when we turned the corner it was like ….WOW!

It reminded me of St Marks’s Square in Venice …….. but more beautiful. On three sides were the most beautifully painted (I suppose) buildings, with arches underneath. The roof of the buildings dotted with chimeny pots, made of brick, of all shapes and sizes that made it seem as if it had come directly from some fantasy book town. We walked around the town a bit and through the castle grounds and through the arch under the tower, down the steps and back to the square. Stunning. Designed by Da Vinci, it is amazing. We went for lunch in the square – eating outside as it was still warm enough. It was all lovely. Considering this is only half an hour or so from Milan, it was as if we were in a different world.

And then home.

It was, all in all, a truly lovely weekend and lovely anniversary day yesterday.

Milleluci – restaurant or bar?

“I’ll wait outside”, he says, “It’s very gay”

But he wouldn’t tell me over the FB chat. He waited until we were there.

We were using another Groupon coupon. For a restaurant called Milleluci. On FB chat I translated it as ‘a thousand lights’.

“Yes”, he said, “that’s correct but I’ll have to tell you later why it’s very gay”.

I got there first. It was very gay. There were gay people outside and when we got in, it was very gay.

It’s a bar and a restaurant – bar at the front and restaurant at the rear. It’s open from 6 p.m. until 2 a.m.

The service was great, especially as F did his usual and chatted to the waiter (maybe owner) about the restaurant and how fabulous it all was. Milleluci was some TV programme or something with Mina and some other singer. All very showy and very gay. It’s a restaurant that has memorabilia from that time (80s, I think). It’s red. And black. It has hand-painted red tables with a picture of an Italian diva of that time pasted on top. It has hand-made posters/pictures on the wall – again of the divas of that time. The music is also of that time.

There is a glitter-ball in the centre of the restaurant/bar. I suppose it’s mainly for the bar but WTF?

V and I used to go to this restaurant before, some years ago, before it became a very gay restaurant/bar. When it was run by some North Africans/Turkish people or something. Anyway, then they closed. Since then there have been a few restaurants and bars that have opened in it’s place ….. only to close within a year or so. The last I knew, it was a sushi restaurant – that was always empty.

And, now it’s Milleluci.

It’s a nice, trendy bar/restaurant. The waiter (or owner) was very nice. We had our plate of cold meats and salami to start with a prune/sausage/sage and something ‘thing’ that was lovely. We had a glass of prosecco as well. Then cold meats were nice. It came with a kind of onion marmalade that was also nice.

F chose some wine. It was good. The next course was a choice from their range of pasta, chalked up on a board. F had leek and something (which was really lovely) and I had the taglietelle with ragù (meat). I wish I had had F’s. Unfortunately, mine was not so brilliant and part of the pasta was dry and another part it had stuck together. But the taste was OK.

The main course was a choice of two meat dishes. I chose the costata (basically a chop) which came with potatoes. F, not liking meat, had one of their starters. Burrata I have mentioned before. I wish I had that too rather than my chop. Burrata is a kind of mozzerella. It is like having a soft, light butter but it is really divine. F’s was as good as I have tasted. Unfortunately, although my chop was cooked fine, it was tough. The potatoes would have been better if they had been a bit crispy – but they had a nice taste. The meat was nice tasting – it was a shame it was not such a good piece.

Then I had some chocolate thing, whilst F had their fruits-of-the-forest cheesecake. This was the only time I preferred my choice. Cheesecake, here, in Italy, I find too heavy.

We paid €20 for the wine. I suppose a meal with antipasto, secondo and sweet would have set you back about €25 per head – so, in the end, we would have paid €70-80 with the wine – but, obviously, we had more food than we would normally have.

It’s a nice, friendly place. We would (probably will) go there again but I will be more careful with my selection next time. Also, I won’t eat so much because now I am very fat.

In the end, they asked us to come to their one-year anniversary party, next Monday. Yes, they were very nice people. After all, they were gay and, as F said, “Gay people know how to treat their customers well”. It made me laugh …. inside, of course.

We talked about the Knox verdict and stuff as well. I will give you the results of my “survey” in the next post.

Books that should never have been written and films that should never have been made.

Of course, it’s all a matter of personal taste.

But, you know, there’s some things that just should never have happened.

There was a book I read once, a long time ago. It was about a teenage boy who ‘kidnapped’ his babysitter and everything just got a ‘bit out of hand’. I don’t remember the title. I do remember that I truly hated it. Not because it wasn’t well-written (although I can’t remember if it was or wasn’t) and not because the book was horrific or anything – although it was.

No, the problem was that the things depicted in the book were such that, if you had imagined them in the first place, in my opinion, you had problems and should see someone to get them fixed.

Recently there was something in the newspapers about Human Caterpillar 2 (which, from what I understand, has now been banned in the UK). So I found a copy of Human Caterpillar (the first version – which the protagonist watched in the second version). I’m afraid, not only could I not watch it all the way through, but I had to skip through it, using fast forward most of the time.

Not only was it boring and (to me, remember) utterly stupid and pointless but it was also the product of a very sick mind. I don’t know that I could have acted in it (although, on second thoughts, no one has offered me money to act – so maybe I would for the right incentive – after all, it wasn’t actually real, was it?) At the end of it all, it wasn’t a good film but the story did not need to be filmed at all. In fact, should not be filmed at all.

Anyway, having seen HC (the first version), even in FF mode, I’m certainly NOT going to be going out to find a copy of HC2.

And where is this going, you are (maybe) saying to yourself?

Well, over our holidays it’s been mentioned during conversations with others how much F likes going to cinema and how we never do. Apparently this is because I don’t understand Italian and so we don’t go. I pointed out that I have no problem going and, in fact, would enjoy the experience, particularly if I have looked the film up online first so have a basic understanding (and, maybe, have seen some clips in English).

F is a BIG fan of the director Almodovar and so it was that, on Saturday night last, we went to see this:

Now, I looked at the trailer (as above), I read what synopsis I could find (and because no one would give the plot away, finding the actual important bits was difficult – but I found them) and looked at the book it was based on (online, of course).

I knew it would be a ‘difficult’ film and not only because it would all be in Italian!

I sat through it all. I’d paid for it, so of course I did.

I tried to enjoy the “beauty” of the filming but I was struck, overall, by the same feelings as reading that book and watching that other film.

Why?

I mean ‘Why make it’?

What made him think that this was either believable or good? I wasn’t shocked (although maybe that was because I knew the story beforehand), nor frightened, nor, even, disgusted. I was more than disgusted. It wasn’t a horrible film because it was gory. It wasn’t even a horrible film because of the story, as such. Whereas, for most of the film I kind of understood what was going on – I mean I could follow the idea of the film, even if I didn’t think it was an amazing story, in the last few scenes the whole thing became preposterous. I’d patiently waited for the big twist to happen and then, when it did, I felt that I’d been cheated by an atrocious (and sick and unbelievable) plot.

I don’t dislike Almodovar but I left the cinema wondering why he had made it. Worse still (if it is true), F said that he had wanted to make this for years!

Put it this way, not only will I not be buying it on DVD, I won’t be watching it ever again.

Cornish pasties or sausages?

It was like Cornish pasties. Or sausage rolls. They’d been overcooked. They had too much fat. You know? The ones with that fatty pastry – the sort you get from Greggs. The smell is at once disgusting and appetising – but, maybe not at half past eleven at night. Not when you didn’t cook them. Not when the smell fills your bedroom like someone had been cooking them in that room. Not when it wakes you up.

But let’s go back a bit.

F is in Germany. I took him to the airport on Monday morning. I don’t mind doing that but it does mean getting up a little earlier. Therefore, Monday, I was tired. I also had clients in at work.

After my lesson, I spoke to F by phone. Then I took the dogs out for their walk. It was 9.30. By 10, I was in bed. Since I had been so tired all day and evening, I thought sleep would come immediately. But the bastard ran away and wouldn’t come back.

Added to which, my hips hurt like hell. They normally hurt if I have been wearing particularly tight jeans. Now that I am the size of a small elephant, all my jeans are that little bit tighter.

So, what with the pain and the not wanting to sleep, I couldn’t. And my teeth hurt a bit because I have been clenching and grinding them again.

Eventually, I got up and took some nurofen. Eventually, I guess, I fell asleep.

The smell filled the bedroom. As it is, again, quite warm, all windows are open. The smell was coming from one of the other flats – also with it’s windows open. The smell seemed to get stronger. I got up. The smell was throughout the flat. I hated it. It won’t let me sleep but what can I do?

I walk around spraying airfreshner in every room. This almost masks the smell but not quite. I look out of my window – as if I can tell where the smell was coming from (which was a stupid idea); as if, having worked out where the smell was coming from, I could do anything about it (I wouldn’t).

I like living in a flat. I miss having a garden but am grateful for not having a garden and having to spend every weekend keeping it from becoming an unruly jungle. All things have good and bad points.

I hate that I am too close to people. I hate when I don’t like their cooking.

I don’t like this cooking.

I go back to bed, smelling the smell and hating it. I guess I must have dropped off to sleep again.

At 5.40 in the morning I could not smell it.

But, maybe, I was used to it?

Love it or leave it

I’m not sure what the film/Documentary will really be like but I do want to see it.

Italy – a place stacked full of contradictions.

It’s true – either love it and shut the fuck up or leave it and don’t be looking back.

Some of my students are learning English for the sole purpose of ‘getting out’. London’s (and New York’s) streets are, in their eyes, paved with gold. It’s almost as if they think these places are some sort of heaven.

To be honest, I have been having a bit of a beef with J, an American friend who is currently living in Bologna. She has issues with the promises made to her which have turned out to be a bit empty.

“It wouldn’t happen in the States”, she says.

“Nor in the UK”, I add. “Siamo in Italia”.

A thinks that my “Siamo in Italia” is some sort of judgement on Italy. Well, in one way he’s right. In another way (and the way it is intended) it’s not. My “Siamo in Italia” is a way of saying “shut the fuck up”.

There are many things ‘wrong’ with this country. However, in its defence, there are many things wrong with every country. Just different things, maybe. And some of the same things. It’s like when software programmers say ‘features’ instead of ‘bugs’. It’s life.

If the things wrong with this country were not these things then it wouldn’t be the country it was. With such beauty next to such ugliness; such ignorance next to such flair.

It’s a country of paradoxes. It is what it is. Moreover, it is a different ‘is’ for different people.

It’s a land of dreams and beauty and a land of ugliness and hopelessness – of contrasts and uniformity – but it’s up to you to make it what you want. The rules, after all, are made to be bent.

And, whilst talking with A, last night, I realised that now I’ve fulfilled my ambition to live here, I don’t need to do it any more. A bit like running a company (although that wasn’t really something I went looking for, in the first place).

Anyway, here’s the trailer for the documentary/film. Enjoy:

It’s never easy. It never was.

The video below gives you some idea of what it’s like to ‘come out’. At one point towards the end he says that it had taken him four hours to make the call.

And you don’t do it once – but every time you ‘come out’ to someone. OK, so it gets easier over time but, unless you’ve done it, I don’t think you can ever realise how hard it is.